Ohtareamin, A’maeleamin: My Warriors, My Beloveds
by ArwendeImladris
Summary: Slash. In T.A. 2969, an attractive youth with fair skin, jewel eyes, and pointed ears attracts the attention of Thorongil: the man we will come to know as Aragorn. Too bad the elves are convinced Harry will be perfect for Prince Legolas of Mirkwood.
1. Prologue

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Author**: ArwendeImladris

**Rating**: M

**Genre**: Romance

**Warnings**: Sexual innuendo, language.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Summary**: Harry, son of James, is an attractive youth with fair skin, delicate features, jewel eyes, and pointed ears. With mysterious gifts and a secretive past, he attracts the attention of Thorongil – the man we will come to know as Aragorn. Too bad King Thranduil of Mirkwood is trying to coerce him into marriage with his son – Prince Legolas Thranduilion. Slash. HP/LoTR Crossover.

Set in the Third Age, in the year 2969 – exactly fifty years before the destruction of the One Ring in the fires of Mount Doom on March 25, 3019. Legolas is 2881, Aragorn is 37, and Harry is 19.

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_Prologue_

_Middle Earth: Third Age_

_Rohan: 9th of March, 2969_

_Evening_

"Thorongil, my friend, I have someone I would like you to meet," King Thengel of Rohan boisterously proclaimed.

"Yes, my lord," the tall, dark-haired male agreed.

"This is Harry, son of James. Gandalf introduced him on a recent visit to court," the king stated as he waved a young man over.

Gandalf had recently informed Aragorn that he discovered a new Istari a few years ago and was training him in both magic and combat. Aragorn was not sure what he was expecting, but it certainly was not the creature before him.

The youth was slim and petite, perhaps coming to Aragorn's collarbone. He had windswept midnight hair and eyes as green as the finest emeralds. His features were delicate. His ears, pointed.

"Good evening to you, sir," a soft voice greeted. "I have heard only good things about Thorongil, Eagle of the Star."

"I should hope so," King Thengel proclaimed. "He is one of my best warriors. I shall leave you to discuss your training."

"Training?" Aragorn questioned.

Harry blushed quite fetchingly.

"Galdalf the Grey wishes for me to gain true battle experience," he admitted hesitantly. "I am to ask your permission to accompany you and your men on your next journey."

"We are to bring missive to the elves in Mirkwood. There will be little danger compared to some previous quests. I suppose it would be a good chance for training," Aragorn conceded.

"Mirkwood?" Harry queried with a wince.

"Yes, is there a problem?" Aragorn responded.

"No, I shall just have to keep a low profile upon our arrival. King Thranduil wishes for my hand for his son," the youth admitted shyly.

"Your hand? But how will they continue the line? Elves have a very low birth rate as it is," the man said, astonished.

"In my home, I am what we call a Bearer. We are known for our fertility," Harry admitted. "But I have no desire to wed so soon. It is only my nineteenth summer, while Prince Legolas Thanduilion is only barely a century short of his three-thousandth year. And I have heard things."

"Things?" Aragorn enquired with a smile, knowing the beds his old friend shared were a favorite source of gossip among the elves of lesser birth.

"I do not wish to continue this line of discussion," Harry declared with another blush. "I will accompany you on your journey, and simply avoid the King of Mirkwood and his introductions at court."

"Yes, I suppose that will be for the best. We are departing on the morrow. We ride north to cross the Great River, and it shall not be more than three days travel to the banks. Another two days shall see us to the southern edge of Mirkwood Forest, and ten more to reach the Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood if we do not run into trouble," Aragorn explained. "Pack your bags light and I shall see you at the gates at dawn."

That night, Aragorn fell asleep to dream of fair skin and silky black hair and bright green eyes.

That was nothing unusual.

The problem was that it wasn't Arwen's skin and hair and eyes of which he was dreaming.

It was Harry's.

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_Rohan: 10__th__ of March, 2969_

_Dawn_

"Good morning," Aragorn greeted the sleepy Istari.

Harry just opened one eye and grunted at him.

"Not a morning person?" Aragorn snickered.

"Gandalf," Harry responded.

Aragorn laughed.

"Is that supposed to make sense?" he asked his bleary-eyed companion.

Harry sighed and made an attempt to be a functional being.

"Gandalf kept me up ridiculously late last night practicing spells. I swear he did it on purpose because he knew how cranky it would make me," Harry admitted.

"I do not see a staff?" Aragorn questioned.

"Because I do not use one. My magic is too large for such a channel, according to Gandalf. As one ages, raw magical power is sacrificed for precise control. I won't need a staff for at least another one thousand years," Harry explained. "Now let me go back to sleep."

A warrior that overheard their conversation snickered.

"Brash words for such a little one," the rough man teased, ruffling Harry's hair. "He sure isn't afraid of you, Thorongil."

"I'm not little," Harry glared. "And why would I be afraid?"

"Most men are just a little intimidated when they first journey with our group," Aragorn explained modestly.

"It must be because you are such a large brute," Harry joked, needing to tilt his head all the way back to look Aragorn in the eye.

"Now, are we going to leave or can I go back to sleep?" Harry said before Aragorn could respond to his previous comment.

Aragorn just nodded, agreeing that it was time to leave. All the men were there, it was time to depart.

"Time to move out, men," he called to the surrounding warriors. They quickly mounted their horses and departed.

"Why are there so many of us just to deliver a simple missive?" Harry asked after they had rode for a few hours.

Aragorn glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"So many? There are nine, including us," Aragorn responded.

"Gandalf and King Thengel ordered such a large group for my protection, did they not?" Harry sighed.

Aragorn opened his mouth to deny it.

"Do not lie to me, Eagle of the Star. It is a simple missive. If I was not to accompany you, I am sure you would have ridden to Mirkwood alone," Harry rebuked him sharply.

"How did you know I was going to lie to you?" Aragorn questioned.

"I did not. Thank you for confirming it," Harry replied with a laugh.

"Cheeky brat," a soldier riding a dark brown horse muttered. The surrounding men laughed.

"Clever brat," Harry corrected.

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_West Bank of The Great River: 13__th__ of March, 2969_

_Dusk_

"Stop here, men," Aragorn called out. "Set up camp and we'll cross the river on the morrow."

"Finally," Harry huffed, dismounting his large white stallion. He tied her up with the other horses, walking a little funny on the way.

"Pretty boy walks like he just had a good fucking," one of the men called out. There were a few snickers.

"I am just not used to riding so much," Harry explained, blushing.

"That's what he said!" another responded.

"That is what he said," Aragorn said, confused.

Harry just shook his head at Aragorn's confusion.

"Never you mind. It is a common saying when someone makes a comment that can be misconstrued," Harry explained.

"Now, I am going to bed. It has been a long three days and I am exhausted," Harry proclaimed. He set his bedding by the fire, curled up, and was asleep in seconds.

"It is the third night and I still do not know how he does that," Aragorn commented with a fond smile.

The men stayed up for a few more hours, talking and laughing quietly around the fire. None commented if Aragorn's eyes strayed to Harry's bedding a little too often.

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_Southern Edge of Mirkwood Forest: 15__th__ of March, 2969_

_Noon_

"Let us quickly break for lunch before continuing," Aragorn ordered.

"Thorongil?" Harry questioned hesistantly.

"Yes, little one?" Aragorn prompted.

Harry flushed.

"I am not little!" he sighed, almost resigned to the name Aragorn had been using since they crossed The Great River. "Why are we going around the forest? Would it not be shorter to journey in a straight line?"

"We shall edge east around Mirkwood Forest until we pass the Narrows. The Dark Lord Sauron may no longer occupy Dol Guldur on the southwestern edge of the forest, but it is an area full of orcs and other dangerous beasts. It is still not safe to travel too close to the castle," Aragorn explained with a frown, thinking of the evil lord.

"That does make sense," Harry agreed. "Although it would cut a few days off the journey."

"Yes, it would reduce the trip by nearly three days. But safety comes before speed on missions such as this, little one," Aragorn advised.

"I am not little!"

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_East Bight: March 19, 2969_

_Nearly Midnight_

"You did not have to keep watch, little one," Aragorn told Harry as he relieved him for the night.

"Yes, I did. I am training, am I not? I wish to be treated the same as the rest of the men," Harry said maturely, then ruined it by growling, "And I'm not little!" as he turned back towards his bedding.

Aragorn laughed lightly and called out, "Sleep well. We are entering the forest on the morrow."

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_Eastern Base of the Mountains of Mirkwood: March 24, 2969_

_Dawn_

"Pack up and head out, men. I wish to be at the Southern Bank of Forest River by nightfall. We will cross that river on the morrow and enter the Silvan Woodland Realm. Push yourselves hard today, and you shall have the hospitality of the elves by next nightfall," Aragorn proclaimed.

"You are talented in raising morale," Harry commented. "The King of Rohan and Steward of Gondor are lucky to have you leading these warriors."

Aragorn took his praise graciously.

"I have been serving in their armies for nearly twelve summers now. I am just proud to help the fight against the Dark Lord Sauron and defend Middle Earth," he replied.

"If I may ask, Thorongil, just how many summers have you?" Harry questioned mildly.

"You may ask. This summer will be my thirty-seventh," Aragorn responded.

Harry barely managed to hold in his sputter.

"So old?" he teased.

"Well, it is not so old for an Adûn," the larger man defended.

"You are friendly with the elves, then?" Harry questioned.

"I am friendly with you, am I not?"

"Yes, but many barely consider me an elf. My mother was half-elf, and she chose to forsake her immortality for life in the Cold Lands with my mortal father. Neither survived long past my birth, and my care fell to my mother's mortal half-sister. I was raised in Minhiriath as a Man," Harry explained.

"Minhiriath?" Aragorn questioned, aghast. "There is nothing there but forest. It is no place to raise a child."

"Oh, my aunt and uncle did not much care about that. My cousin grew tall and strong, and I grew about as well as an orchid under an ash tree. If it were not for Gandalf, I shudder to think of what would have come of me," Harry stated seriously.

"And they called you a Bearer in this strange, secretive land of yours?" Aragorn teased with a smile.

"Yes, a few generations ago the Valar gifted the Chosen with the ability to bear children because we had so few females in our land. The gift ran in certain families in Minhiriath," Harry affirmed.

"And how are you so sure that you are one of these Chosen?" Aragorn questioned.

"Actually, I am the Chosen One," Harry explained. "The Last. There are no other Bearers still living. And there shall be no more born with the gift; the Valar are unhappy with my people and do not wish to have more of us than necessary," the young man said sadly. "And I know I am Chosen because my mother's father had an affair with an elf behind my aunt's mother's back. If he had not, my mother would not have been born. And I Bear the mark."

"So your mother's father was actually her mother?" Aragorn questioned, confused. "And what mark?"

"The mark that has only been viewed by myself, my deceased parents, and my healer. Because I would almost certainly find myself with child, it is forbidden for me to give my body until I have given my hand, and that is the only way one would see it," Harry whispered demurely.

"You are being coy," Aragorn stated the obvious. "The Valar would not mark you in such a place."

"Oh, but they have. There has been much trouble in the past because the mark is so light and in such a private place. My grandfather did not even know he was capable of bearing a child until he was pregnant with my mother," Harry informed his companion.

"I could not even imagine," Aragorn stated.

"And you do not have to do so. As I told you, I am the Last. It is part of the reason King Thranduil wishes I would give Prince Legolas my hand. The prince refuses to lay with a woman, and the king very much wants an heir. It also helps that I would bring magic into the bloodline," Harry said bitterly.

"How long has the king courted your favor for his son?" Aragorn questioned.

"Two summers ago, Gandalf was passing through Minhiriath when traveling from the Shire to Lórien, and he sensed my magic along the way. I have been with him since. King Thranduil was visiting his brethren in Lórien when we first arrived and overheard the explanation of my gift to Gandalf. I have found little peace since," Harry claimed with a snort.

"And your elven grandfather, who is he? Elves are very protective and possessive of their young, and you have enough elven blood to choose immortality. Why were you not raised by him as an elfling?" Aragorn questioned.

"Oh, ask some more easy questions, why do you not?" Harry teased, then sighed. "I do not know my mother's father. He bedded a simple Man without knowing the possibility of procreating with a Bearer. I do not believe he ever knew of my mother, and her mortal father died in childbirth. Taking my elven grandfather's name to the grave. For all I know, Prince Legolas is my grandfather and I am heir to Mirkwood," Harry joked.

"You look nothing alike," Aragorn reassured. "Prince Legolas has hair so blonde it is nearly white and eyes so blue they are nearly purple. You are more likely to be related of the elves of Rivendell. You share the same dark hair, fair skin, and jewel eyes."

"Well, then I shall have to avoid laying with any elves of Rivendell," Harry stated with finality. "Oh, and do not think I missed that you compared my eyes to jewels. You are getting poetic in your old age, Dúnedan."

Aragorn flushed at the tease.

"It is not my fault your eyes are the green of emeralds," he replied gruffly. "Who could avoid comparing them to jewels?"

Harry simply laughed at his friend's back as Aragorn rode ahead.

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_**Coming Soon**__: Aragorn and Harry arrive at the Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood: 25__th__ of March, 2969. Harry finally meets Prince Legolas Thranduilion. Will sparks fly?_


	2. First Meetings

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Warnings**: Sexual innuendo.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Chapter Summary**: Harry just wants to know why all blonde elves are so annoying. Aragorn wants to know why Harry is annoyed.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for all the reviews. If there was a return address, I sent you a message back personally. Otherwise:

**Jukka**: I have not seen any Aragorn/Harry either, which is part of the reason that I am writing this. I want to see how the triangle between Aragorn, Harry, and Legolas develops before deciding my pairing. Also, you're right about Aragorn's name being Estel among the elves. However, he took up the name Thorongil, Eagle of the Star, in order to serve in the armies of Gondor and Rohan from 2957 to 2980. I am assuming that King Thranduil and Glorfindel know better than to call him Estel in front of Men because it would blow his cover and compromise his safety.

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_Chapter 1: First Meetings (Or Why Are Blonde Elves So Annoying?)_

_Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood: 25__th__ of March, 2969_

_Noon_

A few hours ride saw the crossing of Forest River and the entrance into the Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood. Thorongil noticably relaxed as the band of men approached the elven stronghold. The group was extremely lucky to have avoided an incidences with Orcs in the fifteen day journey from Rohan.

Harry noticed the approach of a large white stallion. Upon it was a tall, broad elf with hair so blonde it was nearly blinding.

"Greetings," the elf called out in a musical voice. "My heart sings to see thee, Eagle of the Star."

"Glorfindel," Thorongil said in disbelief. "What are you doing so far from Rivendell?"

"Oh, this and that," the elf responded. "Lord Elrond saw interesting events approaching in Mirkwood. It has been too long, my friend. And pleasure meeting thee, lovely."

The last was directed to Harry as sharp grey eyes evaluated him critically.

"A star shine on the hour of our meeting," Harry responded softly, locking eyes with the elf-lord.

"I have heard much of thee," Glorfindel admitted. "When Haldir of Lórien claimed that your beauty rivaled that of The Lady of the Wood herself, I was skeptical. It seems the marchwarden was not exaggerating. Your beauty shines bright."

"I shall treasure your words in my heart, but I dare not compare myself to The Lady of Lórien. Now, shall we continue to safety? Orcs may yet be around," Harry murmured with a blush, attempting to change the subject.

The blonde elf simply smirked and turned his stallion around, leading them forward to Mirkwood.

Thorongil cast a sideways glance towards Harry.

"You are beautiful," he whispered to his emerald-eyed companion. "To even catch the eye of Glorfindel says much. He is known for his discerning taste."

"Well he shall not have a taste of me," Harry responded with a blush and an upturn of his nose.

The blonde elf's keen ears must have heard Harry's comment, as his tinkling laughter filled the forest. The youth silently glared at Thorongil for the rest of the ride.

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"Ever is thy sight a joy," King Thranduil exclaimed upon sight of Harry.

"The Eagle of the Star brings missive from Rohan," the youth replied, once again attempting to deflect attention from himself.

"Yes, yes. Of course," the king responded. "The men must be tired. They may find rest in our homes and food at our tables. Our specials guests must allow us to provide them with the best accommodation."

Harry deferred to Thorongil's judgment in dealing with the king.

"The men are hungry, and food would not be amiss. But we would prefer to stay in close quarters to rest. Many Men do not know any elvish tongue, and few Elves speak Westron. We wish to avoid any unfortunate miscommunications," Thorongil replied.

"Of course, of course," King Thranduil agreed, eyes upon Harry all the while.

Harry shifted uncomfortably under the king's heavy gaze.

"May I enquire as to the location of the baths? I am not used to such rigorous travel, and I wish to retire early after a short wash," Harry politely asked, desperately seeking departure from court.

"The public baths…" Glorfindel began, but was cut off by the king.

"No, no. You may use the guest baths. One of the servants will show you the way," the king insisted as he waved a slender brunette over. She deeply bowed to the king, and then gave a lighter bow to the others.

Glorfindel and Thranduil exchanged a meaningful glance behind Harry's back as the servant led him towards the prince's private bathing chambers. Aragorn watched the exchange with keen eyes but did not know enough to warn Harry.

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Harry sunk deeper into the warm water, the bubbles covering him to his neck. The tub was elegant and spacious, and a much appreciated luxury after fifteen days of constant travel.

He sighed long and low, throwing his head back on the bath pillow and closing his eyes.

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by the door to the bath opening.

"Did my father send you to my private bath?" the elf asked. "You are a pretty little thing, but I will not lay with a woman just to produce an heir. You can tell my father that when you explain why you failed."

Harry sat up in the bath and glared into the elf's deep blue eyes.

"I do not know who your father is, but if he is who I expect we are going to have problems. I am neither pretty nor little, and I am certainly not female. And I am attempting nothing other than relaxing, which I would not have failed in if you had not disturbed me," Harry sneered.

The elf before him visibly faltered.

"You…who are you?" he asked, noticeably off-balance.

"No one you need bother yourself with. But if my suspicions are correct, you would be Prince Legolas Thrandulion, heir to the Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood. You are exactly as Thorongil described, and King Thranduil did indeed send me here to bathe. Of course, telling me that these were your private bathing chambers would have thwarted his obvious intentions," Harry informed him. "Now turn around so that I may get out and cover myself."

"You are feisty, lovely," the prince smirked. "And I am indeed who you say. And if _ada_ sent you here, I imagine that you are Harry, son of James, as he is the only male the king would send to my private bathing chambers."

"You still have not turned your back," Harry pointed out, ignoring the prince's other comments.

"Why should I? We are to marry, are we not? You do not have to be shy with me," Legolas purred with a smirk.

"We are not to marry. I am not ruled by your king, and I do not have to do as he bids. And even if we were betrothed, that is not an excuse to forsake modesty. Now please turn around," Harry responded.

"No, I think I shall join you in your bath, shy one," Legolas claimed as he began to remove his tunic.

Harry's eyes narrowed in anger, and Legolas was forcibly turned around by an invisible hand.

"You can have your own bath once I get out," he spat as he quickly wiped bubbles off with a towel and dried himself. Harry quickly shrugged on a robe and moved to exit the bathing chamber.

"If you did not want me to watch, you should not have placed me in front of a mirror, Istari," Legolas called to Harry's back before he closed the door. "Your magic betrays you."

Harry did not deign that with a response. He simply growled and stomped off.

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"What is bothering you, little one?" Aragorn asked as Harry stomped into the room. "Did you not enjoy your bath?"

Harry shot him a glare and grabbed a set of night garments obviously gifted to him by the elves. He glared at them with distaste.

"So many glares. Who angered you so?" Aragorn continued, wishing to know what was wrong with his beautiful companion.

"The king sent me to the prince's private bathing chambers. He thought I was a woman upon first sight and accused me of attempting to seduce him under his father's orders. When he realized I was in fact male, he attempted to enter the bath," Harry spat out, still glaring at the night clothes as if they were the ones to anger him so.

"You stopped him?" Aragorn questioned, angry at his old friend for making his new companion uncomfortable.

"I used my magic to turn him around as I exited the bath. Unfortunately, I did not see the mirror in my anger," Harry muttered, obviously upset that the prince had seen him naked.

"You do not have anything to be ashamed about," Aragorn reassured him.

Harry simply stared at him with disbelief.

"What does that matter? The king purposefully set me up in a situation where the prince could violate my modesty and my privacy. If I did not have magic, I would have nothing to defend myself against unwanted advances. Legolas is both taller and stronger than I, and probably trained much better in hand-to-hand combat," he explained as he sat on the bed.

"I am sure he would have stopped his advances the moment you said 'no.' He really is very honorable," Aragorn assured.

"He was looking at me as if I was the last drink of water in the desert," Harry replied. "I do not appreciate being made to feel as if I am an object. I am a sentient being, elf blood or no, and I do not belong to him. He seemed to think as if a betrothal would give him full rights to my body, despite my feelings otherwise. Now do you see why I was so uncomfortable to travel to Mirkwood? The prince does not seem the type to give up until he has what he wants. And no matter what the king may wish, the prince simply wants me in his bed. I would be just another conquest, and then I would be left to deal with the consequences."

"Harry…" Aragorn trailed off, uncertain what to say to reassure his friend. "You are special. You could never be just another pretty face to warm his bed. Even if Legolas attempted to keep his distance, you have a way of worming into even the most closed-off hearts."

Harry's eyes met his, and the youth visibly faltered.

"Are you speaking from experience, Thorongil?" the young elf whispered quietly.

"I will not deny my affections," Aragorn responded. "But I would never pressure you into reciprocating. I do not wish for this to make you uncomfortable around me."

"I am not ready for a relationship of that nature," Harry confirmed. "But I do trust you. Your feelings do not make me uncomfortable. I would like to think we are friends?"

"As would I," Aragorn replied.

"Then that is how I would prefer to stay. I do not wish to repeat my grandfather and mother's mistakes and leave a confused elfling in the realm of Man," Harry whispered.

"Harry, I would take care of you if you fell pregnant. No matter who the father is. I am not saying this to encourage you to engage in relations, I just want you to know that I would take care of you," Aragorn declared.

"That is very kind of you. But I wish to take care of myself. I am done relying on others for my protection. That is part of the reason Gandalf sent me on this journey; he wishes to encourage my independence as much as I wish to seek it. And I could not burden you with another man's child," Harry asserted.

"It would not be a burden. But know that if you fall pregnant because of Legolas – or any elf, for that matter – he will be made to marry you and take care of you and your child. You know elves are very protective of their young. It has been many years since the last elfling was born. In fact, you were probably the last, and your mother before you the second last. The elves just did not know of your existence, so they will favor any child of your body all the more," Aragorn reassured.

"I do not wish to force any Man or Elf to marry me. Any union of mine must be desired by both parties. I do not wish to make any child of mine grow up believing themselves to be a burden," Harry said sadly.

"As you did?" Aragorn questioned softly.

Harry's sad emerald eyes met his enquiring grey ones.

"As I did," he confirmed forlornly. "An Elf should not be made to grow up in the house of Man. Especially when one's aunt was envious of her sister and can take her jealousy and anger out upon her sister's child."

And that ended their conversation. Aragorn turned his back as Harry changed into his sleeping clothes, and the pair went to separate beds to think about their discussion and certain revelations.

Neither got much sleep that night.

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_Coming Soon: 26__th__ of March, 2969. Aragorn and Legolas have a confrontation. One is half-way in love; the other is madly in lust. Too bad it is with the same person._


	3. A Confrontation Between Old Friends

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Warnings**: Language. Sexual innuendo. Violence.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Chapter Summary**: Aragorn and Legolas have a confrontation (or two). One is half-way in love; the other is madly in lust. Too bad it is with the same person.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for all the reviews. If there was a return address, I sent you a message back personally. Otherwise:

**passer-by**: Thanks for the review. In canon LoTR, Aragorn fell in love with Arwen upon first sight in 2951, but she did not reciprocate until 2980. So that leaves Harry room to wiggle into his affections without much competition, as Aragorn is working in the armies of Rohan and Gondor and Arwen is with her father in Rivendell. Also, your suggested Legolas/Aragorn interaction made me laugh.

**jane**: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you are enjoying it.

**P.S.** I wrote a oneshot Aragorn/Harry. Go check out _My Hope, My Eagle, My King_ – it is basically a spin-off of the last chapter. What if Harry reciprocated when Aragorn admitted his feelings? Lots of shameless fluff.

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_Chapter 2: A Confrontation Between Old Friends (Or Why Legolas Thinks Aragorn Should Just Back Off)_

_Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood: 26__th__ of March, 2969_

_Dawn_

Aragorn woke before dawn, groggy from his short and fitful sleep. Last night had brought many revelations about Harry and his mindset, and Aragorn was angry at Legolas for objectifying his beautiful emerald-eyed companion.

Harry was more than a sexual object, more than just a recepticle for an heir. King Thranduil saw him as a savior, a way to pass on the elvish blood. Legolas saw him as a way to procreate without having to lay with a woman. Neither one of them saw the sensitive, shy creature behind Harry's beautiful face.

Aragorn quickly dressed and grabbed his sword and daggers, heading down to the training area. If he knew his old friend, Legolas would be practicing his archery. Although the best archer in Middle Earth, the prince was constantly honing his battle skills.

And sure enough, Aragorn immediately spotted Legolas's blonde hair gleaming in the archery range.

"You are a skillful bowman," he called out to his old friend.

"Ever is thy sight a joy," Legolas greeted, firing off one last bulls-eye and reattaching his bow to his back.

"I wish I could say the same," Aragorn responded with a frown. "You greatly upset Harry last night."

"Did he complain about my lustful ways?" Legolas questioned with a smirk. "It is not my fault he is repressed."

"Not all elves are as free-loving as you, Legolas," Aragorn responded. "You made him uncomfortable. He is not a possession. He is a living, breathing, feeling being. And I would appreciate it if you allowed him his modesty and his privacy in the future."

"Do you expect I will find him naked often?" Legolas quipped.

"Go kiss an orc," Aragorn snarled. "I am being serious."

"Have you forgot Arwen so easily?" the prince asked. "You are half in love with him already. How long have you known him? A fortnight?"

"And three days," Isildur's heir responded with a sigh. "He is unlike anyone I have ever met. Yes, I will admit that I was infatuated with Arwen, but she did not return my affections."

"And Harry does?" Legolas questioned.

"Not yet," Aragorn said seriously. "He is young yet, and does not wish to be trapped. He wants his freedom, his independence. And your father chasing after him to bear your heir is weighing on him heavily."

"Well then, you should be having this discussion with _ada_," Legolas responded with another smirk.

"By the sea and stars, you are as impossible as ever!" Aragorn exclaimed. "You make me wish to draw my sword."

"Don't look for trouble, Estel, it will find you. I know your strength in battle, just as I know your weakness," Legolas warned. "The boy is not worth it."

"Then you will leave him alone?" Aragorn prompted.

"That is not what I said," the prince responded. "Perhaps you should just back off. He is an elf, and he would see immortality at my side. Find yourself a mortal woman to bear Isildur's next heir."

"He is only a quarter elf," Aragorn snarled. "He was raised in the realm of Man. He does not even know his elven kin! He does not know your culture. He barely knows your language!"

"He will have eternity to learn," Legolas said calmly. "Unless you pressure him to accept the Gift of Men and find death at your side."

"He would find love as well, which is something that cannot be said of your fabled '_forever'_" Aragorn sneered.

"I would marry him, of course, if he bore my heir. It would be necessary for the legitimacy of the line," Legolas assured. "He would be well taken care of."

"And yet you still say nothing of love. And what of fidelity?" Aragorn demanded.

"I would not seek it from him," Legolas stated. "After he bears my first heir, he can bed whomever he likes. He is beautiful enough that he will not lack for companionship."

"And your own fidelity? You would bed whomever you like as well?" the man asked.

"I only bed males, you know that. And Harry is the only Bearer. He would not have to worry about illegitimate children to compete with the heir," Legolas promised.

"Harry wishes to marry for love. You will never win his hand with that attitude," Aragorn said with a large measure of relief in his voice.

"I desire his body, and I will not sire children in any other bed. That should be more than enough," Legolas claimed. "He can find love with another outside of the marriage bed, if he so wishes."

"Glad to see I'm so wanted," a musical voice called from behind Legolas's back.

"Your beauty shines bright," Legolas greeted. "In light or dark. I did not hear your approach."

"Stealth is one of the few aspects of battle I have mastered," Harry acknowledged. "Why are you just standing around the archery range? It is a place of training and battle, not conversation."

"Oh, Thorongil just distracted me from my practice," Legolas said with a sly glance towards his old friend.

Aragorn glared at the prince.

"Yes, the men _are_ looking for their commander. Few speak elvish. I have been translating all morning. You know I have no talent or patience for it, brute," Harry accused his friend with a smile.

"I apologize for leaving you to their tender mercies, little one," Aragorn teasingly responded.

"Oh, you are forgiven as long as you accompany me to breakfast. You would not leave me to the wolves, would you?" Harry questioned, emerald eyes sparkling. "I expect you within the hour. I am going to bathe in the guest chambers, as I was so rudely interrupted last night. Oh, and I am not little!"

Both Aragorn and Legolas watched as Harry walked away: one longingly, the other lustily.

"He really is something," Aragorn whispered fondly with a smile.

"Yes, I would love to bury myself in that tight little…" Legolas began, but was interrupted with a dagger at his throat.

"Do not dare finish that sentence. You disgust me when so much wind pours from your mouth. Harry is deserving of your respect. You would not speak of Haldir or Glorfindel as such, would you?" Aragorn demanded.

"Put your dagger away. I will not further insult your precious Bearer," Legolas responded with a roll of his blue eyes.

"I do not understand how you can treat him such," Aragorn stated as he sheathed his dagger. "You have met him but twice. You know nothing of him, yet you treat him like he is another of the many tarts throwing themselves upon you."

"Just because he professes false modesty does not mean he deserves my respect. Did you see the way he walks? He swings his hips just like my '_tarts_.'" Legolas sneered.

"It is his natural gait, I assure you. Primarily from the fact that he is sore from riding a horse for fifteen days straight," Aragorn responded. "And he is untouched. I would appreciate it if you would stop maligning his good name."

"Untouched?" Legolas said in disbelief. "Are you so sure? Perhaps he just…"

"I am sure," the man cut him off. "He is terrified to fall pregnant with an unwanted child, as his grandfather before him. Bearers are notoriously fertile, and just once can see him with child. And I trust his word, beside."

"Hmm…" Legolas said thoughtfully. "Then perhaps I have dealt with him poorly. I thought he was just another seeking entrance into my bed and a permanent place at my side as the bearer of my heir. If he is innocent, he will need to be treated carefully. I thought him falsely modest when I found him in my private baths."

"Harry has no ambitions to bear your heir. He is an innocent, and he was only in your private baths because your father sent him there. As far as he knew, they were the guest baths. He was surprised to see you there, and embarrassed that you saw him unclothed despite his efforts to the contrary," Aragorn informed his old friend. "Now, I am going to wait for him in our room."

"You room together?" Legolas asked as Aragorn began walking away.

The man stopped.

"It is for his protection," Aragorn stated calmy.

"For his protection, or so you can watch him as he sleeps and make sure no other is doing the same?" Legolas questioned.

Aragorn did not dignify that comment with a response as he continued walking away.

"You should not tease him so, Legolas," a voice called from behind the prince.

"Glorfindel," Legolas acknowledged. "You were there the whole time, then?"

"Yes. This is the second time someone has snuck up on you today, Legolas, and it is barely past dawn. You need to be more aware of your surroundings," Glorfindel pointed out.

"Why are you here? You rarely visit Mirkwood without motive," the prince questioned.

"Lord Elrond is interested in your Bearer. He foresaw his importance to the future fate of the Elves," the elf-lord responded.

"Does your lord want him for himself?" Legolas asked, quite seriously. "He already has three children. Four, if you count Estel."

"No," Glorfindel denied. "Lord Elrond believes that Harry may be the result of Erestor's indiscretion."

"What?" Legolas asked, shocked that Harry could possibly be the grandson of Lord Elrond's chief counselor.

"Yes, or perhaps even Elladan's. Erestor, Elladan, and Elrohir once journeyed to Minhiriath, about four decades ago, and both Erestor and Elladan admitted to trysts with mortal men while there," Glorfindel admitted. "If Erestor and Elladan did not look so alike, it would be much easier to distinguish. But both have dark hair and pale skin, it is simply a mark of their race."

"So Harry may be Lord Elrond's great-grandson through his eldest son? Bonding with him would closer align Mirkwood with Rivendell," Legolas claimed contemplatively.

"And Erestor is a well-respected high Elf. He holds much power in Rivendell as well," Glorfindel reminded. "They are the most likely candidates. Few other male elves within Lord Elrond's knowledge traveled in or around Minhiriath in the necessary time period."

"This makes things more complicated," Legolas admitted.

"Yes, as Harry can marry whomever he likes if his elven ancestors are unknown. Under our laws, he would need permission from his oldest male elven relative if the relation was known. It would be a way to prevent his loss to the race of Man," Glorfindel pondered.

"Lord Elrond would forbid his marriage to Aragorn?" the prince questioned.

"That I do not know. I believe Lord Elrond would rather Harry than Arwen, although Harry is quite possibly the more important to the elven race. Bearers are notoriously fertile, and we have had no elflings born in many decades, if you do not count Harry and his mother," Glorfindel reasoned.

"That is true," Legolas admitted. "Then I better try to get to know this Bearer better. My father insists that Harry will guarantee Mirkwood's future. Men have been multiplying at too great a rate in recent years, and Elves simply cannot keep up."

"You can start with apologizing for invading his privacy," Glorfindel reminded with a smirk. "So you better come along to breakfast. You have loitered around the archery range doing nothing quite enough this morning."

"My old friend provided too much of a distraction to ignore," Legolas claimed as he walked with Glorfindel towards the dining hall. Servants bowed deeply to them as they passed.

"He is more than _half_ in love, Legolas, and you would do well not to push him," Glorfindel warned. "If you are not serious about the Bearer, you should stop your pursuit now, no matter how much import your father places on repopulating your line. You will have to pledge both love and fidelity to win his hand, I have seen that much. It is not false modesty, nor will it be false chastity if you seriously pursue him."

"Your wisdom is as renowned as your battle skill," Legolas praised. "But I cannot see myself tied to just one for the rest of eternity."

"Perhaps you should change your plans for eternity, then. I would happily court one such as him," Glorfindel admitted.

Legolas shot him a sharp glance.

"You are serious?" Legolas questioned. "You? So renowned for your skill in the bedroom, as well as your many conquests."

"He is very beautiful, and you cannot deny that there is something innocently seductive about him," Glorfindel responded. "But my lord already warned me of the dangers should I pursue such folly. Lord Elrond said there would be trouble if the Bearer ended up with any Elf but you."

"Any _Elf_?" Legolas questioned.

"Estel _is_ a possibiliy," the elf-lord admitted. "But there is no better Elf in Mirkwood, and there is too high a chance that he is too closely related to Rivendell. Haldir of Lórien was smitten at their first meeting, but Lord Elrond Saw only poor outcomes from that union."

"Your lord is very concerned. How long has he been contemplating such matches?" Legolas questioned.

"From as soon as word came from Lothlórien that there was an unknown quarter-elfling, capable of bearing children as a male and passing on the magic of the Istari. Do not underestimate his importance to the future of Middle Earth, be it belonging to Elves or Man," Glorfindel warned.

The two blonde elves arrived near the end of breakfast. A few men were still sleepily eating breakfast, but other than Harry and the king, there were no elves still loitering.

Harry sat across from King Thranduil, who was attempting to engage him in conversation. Aragorn was sitting to Harry's right, placing a hand on his shoulder or lightly stroking his arm whenever he got too frustrated with the king.

"Good morning, _ada_. Harry, son of James," Legolas greeted, then locked eyes with his old friend. "Thorongil."

The last came out almost a growl.

"Greetings," Glorfindel added, shooting the prince a meaningful glance, then looking at Harry.

"I apologize for my recent behavior," Legolas said to the Bearer. "I should have respected your privacy last night, but I hope you will not blame me for being struck stupid by your beauty."

"And what of your comments this morning?" Harry responded, unwilling to forgive the prince so easily.

"I also apologize for alleging that you are free with your affections. I should not have doubted your modesty," Legolas conceded.

"Or his innocence," Aragorn added with a glare.

This time it was Harry who put an hand on Aragorn's arm to calm him.

"Or your innocence," Legolas affirmed, again locking gazes with his old friend.

"I will leave you to your breakfast," King Thranduil said as he stood up.

It was obvious that he was trying to give Harry and Legolas some time to talk without his presence. The king knew there was only so much he could do to court Harry to his son's side without Legolas's participation.

"Good day," Harry told the king as he left, before returning his attention to the prince's apology.

"I suppose I can forgive you. Perhaps we just got off on the wrong foot," Harry acknowledged to the prince, not noticing the dark glare Aragorn was giving everyone and everything at Harry's words.

"Yes, I would like it if we could start again. Let me introduce myself properly. I am Prince Legolas Thranduilion, Heir to the Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood," Legolas said charmingly with a sweeping bow.

"Pleasure meeting you," Harry responded. "I am Harry, son of James. Unfortunately, I have no titles to extend my name so charmingly."

That started a short chuckle out of Legolas, and Glorfindel looked upon their interaction with approval.

Aragorn, not so much.

Harry extended his hand to shake in the custom of Man, but Legolas would have none of it. He brought Harry's hand to his lips as if he were a maiden, and the Bearer blushed deeply at the action.

"You do seem to have the habit of getting me confused with females," Harry teased as he reclaimed his hand.

"You must have me confused with someone else," Legolas responded. "Because I am sure this is the first time we have met. I would remember a beauty such as yours."

Harry acquiesced to Legolas's desire for them to pretend that their first two meetings had never occurred.

"Yes, of course. I must have you confused with another fair-haired Elf prince that I know," Harry murmured demurely.

"Should I be jealous?" Legolas questioned.

"Of course not," Aragorn interjected smoothly. He did not like the light banter being exchanged between his new companion and his old friend. Harry was only supposed to tease him as such!

Harry shot Thorongil a questioning look. The man had been acting oddly ever since the prince and elf-lord had sat down.

"I would like to thank you for the food and accommodations," Harry said politely, attempting to change the subject. "The beds were very comfortable last night, and the baths are a pleasure."

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged another glare before the prince said smoothly, "Then I am surely jealous of every water droplet to touch your skin."

Harry shot him a questioning look.

"That they are able to bring you pleasure when I cannot," Legolas explained.

Harry blushed deeply at the prince's brazen comment, and if looks could kill Aragorn would be arrested for murdering the elf-prince.

"I believe that Harry and I are done with breakfast," he interrupted once again. "Perhaps we shall see you at lunch."

Aragorn pulled Harry's chair out for him, ignoring Harry's searching gaze, Glorfindel's knowing look, and focusing on Legolas's smug smirk.

"Perhaps," the prince conceded.

"Good day, my lords," Harry bid to Legolas and Glorfindel as he left the dining hall with Aragorn.

"Harry, son of James?" the prince called out to his back. "I would appreciate it if you would call me Legolas. My name has never touched sweeter lips."

"Then you must call me Harry, Legolas," the Bearer responded with another deep blush before darting out the doors and out of sight.

Aragorn shot Legolas one more glare and murmured a quick "Good day" to Glorfindel before he followed.

"You are too much, Greenleaf," Glorfindel claimed with a shake of his head.

Legolas sat back in his chair with a smirk.

"Just call me Prince Charming."

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_Coming Soon: It is time for Harry to return to Rohan with Thorongil and his men. What will he do when Prince Legolas asks him to stay in Mirkwood?_


	4. Captivating Beauty

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Warnings**: Sexual innuendo. Violence.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Chapter Summary**: Harry spends the day alongside Thorongil, unknowing of Prince Legolas's spying eyes. The prince soon finds himself captivated by the pretty Elf.

**Author's Note**: Please go check out my new Eomer/Harry oneshot, Kanobein: Beautiful Commander. It is based off wen-parmadol's WIP I Came Home For This? It is complete, though I might write a sequel some time in the future.

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_Chapter 3: Captivating Beauty_

_Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood: 26__th__ of March, 2969_

_Late Morning_

"He is…not quite what I expected," Harry admitted to Aragorn as they left the dining hall. "I did not imagine he would apologize."

"Neither did I, after how he acted this morning," Aragorn replied, scowling.

"Thank you for defending my honor, Thorongil, but I do not really care what the prince thinks of me. I have no intentions of marrying him," Harry assured his friend.

"But you cannot deny that you were flattered by his attentions at breakfast," the taller man accused.

"Who would not be flattered? He is very attractive. But I would not want to spend the rest of eternity with someone who treats me like a possession. He sees me as he would a woman, and obviously has no respect for my status as an Istari or my skills as a warrior, lacking though they are," Harry explained.

"I could train you in sword fighting and hand-to-hand combat, if you wish," Aragorn offered.

That got a bright smile from Harry.

"That is very kind of you. Perhaps Gandalf will let me serve at your side in the armies of Gondor and Rohan for a while. My magical education is far enough along that I can take a break for a while to focus on the more physical aspects of battle, I believe. And who better to learn from than Thorongil, the Eagle of the Star, himself?" Harry teased good-naturedly.

"And perhaps you will get used to riding on a horse so all the princes we meet do not think you so loose with your affections," Aragorn teased back.

Harry went bright red at that comment.

"Did Prince Legolas really believe me so wanton?" he asked.

"Yes, he was quite convinced your modesty was false," Aragorn admitted.

"Hmm," was Harry's response.

"Do you wish to begin your training this morning? I believe some of the men wished to spar," Aragorn informed his companion as they reached the doors leading outside.

"Well, there is nothing else to do unless I wish to be entertained by the king and his court all day," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes as Aragorn held the door open for him. "And I believe that you also mistake me for a woman at times, my friend."

"You can hold the door open for me next time," Aragorn replied. "Do you carry daggers on your person? I noticed the lack of a sword."

"There is a small one in my boot and one strapped to either thigh," Harry answered. "And I would just harm myself at this point if I dared attempt battle with a sword. Gandalf always bid me run and attack with magic from long distance the few times we ran into orcs in our travels."

"I would begin your training with swords," Aragorn began with a frown. "But there have been no elflings for many years and I doubt there are any practice swords lying around Mirkwood. I suppose that can wait until we return to Rohan."

"Then what shall we do today?" Harry questioned. "And when are we departing for Rohan, anyway?"

"You can watch the men spar and I will point out the different techniques," Aragorn stated. "And we will be departing in two days. King Thengel told me to take three nights rest in Mirkwood before beginning the return journey."

"One night down, two to go," Harry quipped as they headed toward the field where the men were sparring.

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"All right, men," Aragorn called to the warriors loitering around the training area. "Let us not make a bad impression upon the elves of Mirkwood. Glorfindel himself is visiting the King Thranduil, and we do not want to embarrass King Thengel in front of the fiercest of the elf-warriors."

"Besides, you want to impress Harry," one of the men joked. "I, for one, do not blame you. He is very pretty."

Aragorn glared as Harry blushed deep red in embarrassment.

"Harry will be learning sword fighting from myself once we return to Rohan," Aragorn explained. "He is going to be observing your techniques throughout the day. Do not disappoint him."

"You did not deny that you find him pretty," another called.

"Because that would be a lie," Aragorn purred with a smirk to the gorgeous Elf.

"You flatter me so, Thorongil," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes.

"It is no mere flattery, I assure you," the larger man retorted.

"Much wind pours from your mouth, my friend," Harry laughed as the men began sparring.

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A few hours later, many of the men left the field for lunch. Harry spent his time observing different sword fighting and hand-to-hand combat techniques as Thorongil supervised the men and offered critiques.

A few elves were also training, but they mostly kept to themselves.

Glorfindel always had to be exceptional.

"Good day," the blonde Elf greeted.

Harry and Aragorn responded in kind.

"Your men are in fine form," he complimented the Man.

"But no match for you, of course?" Aragorn responded with a raised eyebrow.

"I have many millennia practice," Glorfindel replied modestly.

"Maybe you should spar with the elf-lord, Thorongil. I think I would like to see that," Harry goaded slyly.

"You just wish to see me on my back," his friend teased.

"Oh, I do not think he needs me to do that," the blonde Elf laughed. "I believe it would take but a word from his pretty lips."

"Do you all find pleasure in embarrassing me?" Harry questioned helplessly.

"Yes," the blonde Elf and brunette Man answered simultaneously.

"You blush so becomingly," Aragorn explained.

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_Afternoon_

"You smell like a human again," Harry teased his companion as they headed once again towards the dining hall. "For a while I was concerned that I was friends with an orc."

"You spar with Glorfindel and see if you come out smelling like roses. If you even come out at all," Aragorn taunted.

"Oh, no insulting the poor Istari's lack of swordsmanship," Harry responded with a sniff. "I am just glad that you bathed before lunch. I would hate to be put off my food by your smell as well as by the conversation."

"King Thranduil is not that bad," Aragorn said with a smirk, just to rile his companion.

"You endure conversations about marrying Prince Legolas and bearing his heir if you think it's not that bad!" Harry responded. "If I could, I would transfer this gift to you and see how you like it."

"But I am not nearly as pretty as you. What Elf would want me as a wife?" Aragorn teased.

Harry stopped dead.

"I am not a woman, no matter what gifts the Valar may have bestowed upon me," he told his friend seriously, gazing into deep grey eyes.

"I would never mistake you for anything but male," Aragorn promised.

"But others would," Harry countered. "And I do not wish to be accompanied by a chaperone or clothed in fine dresses and finer jewelry. I am not a delicate flower that needs careful tending. Nor am I a fickle princess that needs constant compliments and vaults of gold to win my affections."

"I am sorry if my comments offended you. I will not refer to you as a wife again," Aragorn apologized.

"But others would," Harry countered again with a sad smile. "I just want some freedom from others' expectations. King Thranduil would put the future of the entire Elven race to bear on my shoulders.

And with that he stepped into the dining hall to once again face the elf-king who was convinced Harry would make a perfect bride for his son.

And Aragorn could do nothing but follow.

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_Evening_

"Greetings," Legolas whispered softly in Harry's pointed ear as he sat down beside him for dinner. "I missed your presence at lunch."

"Thorongil and I watched the Men spar this morning, and Thorongil sparred Glorfindel this afternoon. Only your father remained in the hall by the time we arrived at lunch," Harry explained.

"And where is my old friend now? I do not believe he has left your side since you exited the bath this morning," Legolas teased with a smile.

"Thorongil retired early as his spar with your elf-lord exhausted him. I shall join him in our room after dinner," Harry explained.

"Why must he stick to your side like a guard dog," the prince questioned.

"He only wishes for my safety," the younger Elf defended.

"And yet he insisted this morning that you want your freedom," Legolas continued.

"And I do," Harry countered hotly.

"Do not be angry with me for telling the truth as I see it, little one," Legolas smirked.

"Exactly. The truth as _you_ see it. And only Thorongil may call me 'little one,'" Harry replied with a glare.

"What would you rather I call you, lovely?" the prince responded, undaunted by the emerald daggers being shot his way.

"My name is Harry, if you recall. I did give you permission to use it just this morning," his companion said stiffly. "Now if I may be excused, it has been a long day."

"The stars shine bright. Will you not spend some time with me this evening gazing upon them?" Legolas questioned as Harry rose from his seat.

The dark-haired Elf visibly faltered.

"I…do not know if that is such a good idea," he whispered. "I… would not want to give you the wrong idea."

"Are you a woman that you need a chaperone?" the prince challenged.

Harry glared at him sharply, but refused to be baited.

"Perhaps tomorrow evening then," Legolas conceded under the beauty's heavy gaze. "My heart shall weep until it sees thee again."

"Good evening," Harry said simply as he exited the dining hall, many eyes upon his form until he was out of sight.

"He really does have the tightest little…" a blonde Elf to Legolas's right began, only to find a dagger at his throat.

"Do not make me spill your blood upon the dinner table," the prince threatened. "That is my future betrothed that you are gazing upon so lustily."

"Why, my prince, you almost said quite the same this morning. Now you would draw your dagger to stop another from sharing the thought?" another Elf pointed out.

"He is not another of my many conquests," the prince stated as he sheathed his dagger, giving one last glare to the Elf who had looked upon Harry with such impure thoughts.

"Oh, and what is so different about him? Other than the fact that he can bear your heir?" Glorfindel asked as he joined the conversation.

"You were right." Legolas conceded. "Harry is special. He possesses much sweetness and purity, and I will not allow anyone to besmirch his good name."

"How long did you watch him today?" Glorfindel questioned. "I felt your eyes upon us as we conversed this afternoon."

"I was gazing upon him from the trees for most of the day," Legolas admitted. "I wished to see what was so extraordinary about him that Estel would draw his dagger for such a little insult."

"And you obviously found it, as you did much the same but a moment ago," the elf-lord commented.

Legolas nodded sharply.

"Nearly three millenium with nothing but meaningless conquests, and he captures my attention so completely in barely a day. His beauty is captivating. I do not doubt that I could be just as far gone as Estel if I spent a constant fortnight in his presence," Legolas admitted reluctantly.

"Do not be ashamed of the feelings he stirs in you, princeling," Glorfindel counseled. "That way will lead to nothing but trouble, because you will regret it when your actions see him gone from your life."

"Do you speak from experience?" Legolas asked the older Elf.

"I am alone now, am I not?" the other blonde responded.

"I cannot just hand my heart away without a fight," the prince argued.

"Why ever not? Because if you fight your feelings, you will push him away and find your heart has gone with him," Glorfindel stated.

"Is that prophecy?" Legolas queried.

The older Elf did not answer as he too exited the dining hall, leaving the Prince of Mirkwood with more questions than answers.

*********************************************************************************************************************************

When Harry arrived in the rooms he shared with Thorongil, the candles were out and the room was dark. Only a small sliver of light seeped into the room from the nearly full moon.

"You are back earlier than expected," Thorongil called out. "Did the prince not hold your attention?"

Harry started.

"I thought you would be asleep by now," he responded breathily. "And Prince Legolas was his usual overly charming self."

"And yet you retired so early?" Thorongil asked.

"The prince tries too hard to hold my attention. It makes me uncomfortable," Harry explained as he quickly changed into his night clothes and slipped into bed.

"You were flattered enough this morning," his friend pointed out.

Harry sighed.

"Have you not let that go yet? He is known for his looks and charm. You cannot blame me for being taken in for a moment or two," the dark-haired Elf defended.

"Did he not try to get you alone this night?" Aragorn asked, knowing how his old friend worked.

"He invited me to gaze upon the stars with him," Harry admitted.

"All the better for him to gaze upon you," the larger man stated.

"Perhaps," his companion allowed. "Or perhaps he just wished to spend some time getting to know me. I do not presume to know his intentions. Either way, I obviously turned him down. I am here with you now, am I not?"

Aragorn smile shone bright, even in the darkness.

**********************************************************************************************************************************

_**Author's Note**__:_ _The following information may help make the story more understandable, if you found yourself lost:_

_**Timeline**_:

9th of March, 2969: Harry and Thorongil (Aragorn) are introduced by King Thengel of Rohan.

10th of March, 2969: Harry, Aragorn, and seven others leave Rohan for Mirkwood.

25th of March, 2969: The company arrives in Mirkwood. Harry is tricked by King Thranduil into meeting Prince Legolas in his private baths.

26th of March, 2969: Legolas apologizes to Harry during breakfast. He spends the rest of the day spying on our favorite little Elf.

_**Coming Soon**__: 27__th__ of March, 2969. It is time for Harry to return to Rohan with Thorongil and his men. What will he do when Prince Legolas asks him to stay in Mirkwood?_

3019: Events of LoTR

_**Minor Characters:**_

Thengel – King of Rohan

Ecthelion II – Steward of Gondor

Thranduil – King of Mirkwood; father of Prince Legolas

Elrond – Elf-Lord of Rivendell/Imladris; Aragorn/Thorongil/Estel's adopted father

Elladan & Elrohir – Elrond's twin sons; Elladan is potentially Harry's grandfather

Arwen – Elrond's daughter; Aragorn fell in love with her in 2951

Erestor – Elrond's chief counselor; potentially Harry's grandfather

**I hope this helps.**


	5. Burning Passions

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Chapter Summary**: It is almost time for Harry to return to Rohan with Thorongil and his men. What will he do when Prince Legolas asks him to stay in Mirkwood?

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_Chapter 4: Burning Passions_

_Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood: 27__th__ of March, 2969_

_Late Morning_

"Good morning," a musical voice awoke Harry as light filtered in through the open window.

"Ugh, Thorongil. It's too early," Harry whispered as he pulled the covers over his head.

"Too early! Why, it's nearly lunch time. I need to change the bedding," the voice responded.

"You are not Thorongil!" Harry claimed as he sat up in bed.

"Certainly not! I am Thenidiel," a pretty Elf with dark hair answered.

"Oh," was Harry's eloquent response. "Is it really so late?"

"Yes," Thenidiel answered. "Your Man said to let you sleep in because it is your last day of rest before you again depart for Rohan."

Harry blushed deeply.

"He is not my Man," he protested.

"But he wishes to be," the other Elf answered with a smile. "Now up you go, I need to change the bedding, and you need to get dressed for the day."

Harry followed her directions bemusedly. He was pretty sure that most servants did not act like this.

"Are you supposed to be ordering me about?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, no. I would never dare with most of our Elven guests. They are much too stuffy," Thenidiel replied. "But you do not seem the type to complain to the king."

Harry just smiled and shook his head as he readied himself for the day. Then he headed down for lunch.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

"I see you have finally arisen," King Thranduil said with a smile as Harry entered the dining hall.

"Yes, my lord," the younger Elf whispered with a blush. "You should not have given me so comfortable a bed if you did not wish me to languish about."

"Oh, it is no trouble. It is not like there is much for you to do as a guest," the king replied. "And if you were to move into the castle, you could sleep in whenever you wished. Then you would not have to rise with the dawn for a full day of travel every morning."

"That is very tempting, my lord," Harry laughed.

He had learned to just roll with the flow of King Thranduil's conversation. The king could not force him to marry Legolas, so there was no use getting aggravated about his meddling.

"Perhaps I could offer more temptations," Legolas whispered in his delicately pointed ear.

Harry shot him a wry look.

"I doubt you could compete with the luxury of sleeping in," the brunette challenged.

"Spend the night with me, and we shall see," Legolas challenged back.

Harry looked at him, shocked.

"You would be so bold?" he questioned.

"I just wished to stargaze with you tonight," Legolas said with a smirk. "But if you would rather share my bed, that can be arranged."

The younger Elf just shook his head at the prince.

"It is my last night. I suppose stargazing would not be amiss. I do have a long journey ahead of me, so I must get my relaxation in where I must," Harry conceded.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Harry found Thorongil on the training grounds that afternoon.

"Thank you for allowing me to sleep in," he told his friend.

"It was no problem," Thorongil responded. "We are leaving at dawn tomorrow, so best to let you get your laziness out of the way this morning."

Harry laughed at his friend's teasing.

"You remember the first morning of our trip? I thought I would fall asleep upon my horse," the Elf giggled.

"Yes, you accused Gandalf of keeping you up late. I trusted your word that morning. Fourteen cranky awakenings later, I finally realized that it was best not to tickle the sleeping dragon," the Man teased.

"I am not that bad," Harry protested.

Thorongil just smirked.

"I'm not!" the Elf repeated defensively.

"Castle life would suit you," Thorongil admitted seriously. "I only wish you to be happy, little one."

Harry looked at him curiously.

"Do you…are you saying that you think I should give the prince a chance?" the Elf asked hesitantly.

"I have been letting my jealousy blind me," Thorongil confessed. "I care for you deeply, and wish you to stay by my side. But Glorfindel reminded me just why relations between Elves and Men rarely work. I do not wish for you to give up immortality for me. You have a long life ahead of you."

"A Man's life is long enough, if I were to spend it with one I love," Harry replied.

"But you do not love me," Thorongil said sadly.

"I could, eventually," Harry pleaded. "And I do not love the prince, either. He sees me as a possession."

"He cares for you more than you know," the Man said cryptically. "Just choose what you believe will make you happiest. Do not worry about either of our feelings. Do not worry about the fates of Elf or Man. Just…promise me you will be selfish and think about yourself first."

"I promise," Harry pledged seriously.

"And if you choose him, and he hurts you…know that I will be waiting with open arms," Thorongil promised as he hugged the petite Elf.

And if there were a few droplets of water on Thorongil's cheeks, let us blame it on the rain, though there was not a cloud in sight on that clear blue morning.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

"You love him truly," Glorfindel commented to Aragorn after Harry returned to the castle.

"I do," Isildur's heir admitted.

"Then why do you not fight for him?" the Elf questioned.

"He is not a maiden to be fought over, as he loves to remind me. He knows his mind and his heart, and it is his choice to make," Aragorn whispered, pained by the depths of his emotion. "I do not wish to be a selfish love, and take his immortality from him. I want him to live happily forever. If not with Legolas, than perhaps with another in the future."

"And if he decides that he wants to be with you?" Glorfindel questioned.

"Then I will gladly accept him with open arms and spend every day attempting to make him happy until death finally claims us both. And I would thank the Valar every morning and every night for blessing me with such love," the Man stated passionately.

"Legolas does love him, though he may not realize it yet. From the moment Harry granted him a second chance," Glorfindel declared. "The prince can make him happy, if Harry decides to stay."

Aragorn's serious blue eyes locked with Glorfindel's grey.

"He will have to deal with me if he does not," Aragorn threatened.

"You speak as though Harry has already made his decision. He is undecided," Glorfindel admitted.

"I am simply planning for all possibilities," Aragorn explained. "And Legolas is more charming than any one being has the right to be."

"We shall see," Glorfindel claimed.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Legolas stole Harry away from dinner to gaze upon the stars. The clearing he chose was empty but for the two of them, the grass was soft and sweet-smelling at their backs.

"The moon is full and the stars shine bright," the prince commented.

"You could not have chosen a more romantic night," the brunette stated with a small smile.

"You find me romantic, my lovely?" Legolas asked slyly. "We are already at my castle, so I cannot steal you away on my white stallion, I am afraid."

Harry let out a little laugh.

"I am not a princess!" he protested with mirth. "I do not know why you always confuse me for a woman. I can ride my own horse, thank you."

Legolas smirked.

"That is what got us off on the wrong foot in the first place," the prince teased.

"No, your father sending me to your private baths was what really caused the problem," Harry pointed out with a roll of his eyes.

They both laughed.

"That was only two nights ago," Legolas uttered, disbelieving.

"And we are leaving early on the morrow," Harry whispered as they looked up at the night sky together.

"Stay," Legolas said suddenly.

Emerald eyes turned to look at him in shock.

"E-excuse me?" he questioned.

"Stay here. In Mirkwood…with me. We do not have to bond immediately, but do not leave my side. Give us time," Legolas pleaded.

Harry shook his head, lost and uncertain.

"I…we barely know each other," Harry responded, sitting up.

"All the more reason to stay and give us a chance. If I find myself falling for you in just three nights, think of what will be in three years, three centuries, three millenia," Legolas beseeched pursuasively. "Think of what a life with me would be like."

"Your head is empty," Harry snarled back. "You cannot have fallen in love with me so quickly."

"Do not be so defensive. I know what I feel," the prince countered as he too knelt. "Do you believe Thorongil to be in love with you after little over a fortnight?"

"Do not bring him into this," Harry requested. "Thorongil is a much different Man than you."

"Exactly," the blonde nodded. "He is a Man. You would have to give up your immortality to accept the Gift of Men and grow old at his side. You are an Elf."

"Only one-fourth," Harry responded sadly. "And with no family to speak of. I would accept death for a life of love at his side."

"But you do not love him," Legolas pointed out.

"Not yet," the brunette admitted. "But I believe I could, with time. Thorongil is good to me. He would take care of me, and never hurt me."

"He would never hurt you because you would not love him like you could love me!" Legolas claimed. "And what of your independence? Do you need him to 'take care of you'?"

"Do not accuse him of attempting to stifle my independence," Harry shot back. "If it were up to you, I would single-handedly repopulate the elves, locked up in this castle of yours!"

"Not single-handedly," Legolas responded slyly.

"I am being serious. All you see is a pretty face and a body to bear your children," Harry said sadly. "You do not love me."

"You fascinate me," Legolas countered. "We could build a family together. And is it so wrong that I find you beautiful?"

Harry stood up and turned his back on the elf-prince.

"It is so wrong that the beauty is all that you can see. I will Fade if I am trapped here for eternity, Legolas. I need my freedom. If I stay with you now, I may never leave," Harry admitted. "I might as well sail to Valinor on the morrow."

"Then we do not need to stay in Mirkwood. Let us travel to Imladris or Lothlórien," Legolas attempted to compromise.

"Anywhere away from the realm of Man. Are you so afraid of a little competition, my prince? Thorongil could very well be the better choice," Harry whispered, face aglow in the pale starlight. "Yes, you are handsomer than he. But he makes me smile and laugh, and I can trust his feelings are true."

"And you cannot trust the same of mine?" Legolas questioned, insulted.

"I know of your reputation," Harry responded. "Libertine. Philanderer. Every Elf from here to Imladris knows of your exploits. How can I trust you to be true to me when you have not been to any other?"

"I made them no promises," the prince responded. "I would promise you the world."

"But why? Why am I so special? Because I am pretty and can bear your children?" Harry asked in disgust.

"Because you are kind and sweet and all that is good in this world," Legolas replied passionately. "Your outer beauty is merely a reflection of the bright star that burns within you."

"You barely know me," Harry accused again.

"I have ears that hear and eyes that can see," Legolas countered. "I have been watching you. With Thorongil, with Glorfindel. You are passionate and true to your beliefs. You smile and laugh with them – why not with me?"

"There is no pressure for me to conform to their wishes. To carry the future of the Elves within my womb," Harry answered.

"Thorongil would gladly gift you with his seed," the prince stated.

"But there is no pressure to gift him with the next son of his line," Harry defended. "He is not a prince. He would wait for my love before taking my hand."

"You know nothing of Thorongil! Nothing!" Legolas snarled. "He is not the Man he appears to be. You trust him whole-heartedly, while I could speak nothing but the truth and still be painted a liar in your eyes!"

"You are a charmer with the tongue of a snake, my prince," the Elf replied. "Perhaps if you did not have nearly three thousand years of conquests trailing behind you…"

"The past is the past," the blonde stated. "I could not change that, even if I wished to do so. I can only make new decisions to determine my future."

"I allow that you cannot change the past," Harry conceded. "But what of the future? If I were to stay in Mirkwood, would you promise me fidelity? Would I be your one and only?"

"If that is what it would take to keep you," Legolas maintained.

"I am not a possession!" Harry cried. "You wish to 'keep me' as if I am a porcelain doll to grace your shelf. I am a living, breathing being. I have feelings and hopes and dreams. You cannot put me away when you get bored of me! We are Elves – it will be forever. And not the forever that Men imagine – I will spend millenia at your side unless one of us dies from battle or sails to Valinor. If I stay now. Because I do not doubt that you would eventually be successful in your pursuit if I remained in this castle."

"What are you so afraid of? You are so concerned about my exploits, but what of you? You have not seen your twentieth summer. Youth are fickle – how do I know you will not fall in love with another and leave my side?" Legolas questioned.

"Do not accuse me of not knowing my own mind or heart," Harry growled. "And I refuse to be passed around as a brood mare for your kin."

Legolas stopped dead, shocked.

"Is…is that what you are afraid of?" the prince questioned. "That I will pass you around like a common whore to bear the children of others? Is that why you are so set on fidelity?"

"I would be set on fidelity anyway," Harry evaded, turning from the prince's burning gaze. "But yes, it has come to mind that I could be forced to do so. Minhiriath is not so kind as Mirkwood or Rohan."

"What did they do to you?" Legolas growled.

"They?" Harry questioned.

"Whoever raised you," the prince responded.

"They raised me fine. It is nothing for you to concern yourself about," Harry responded speciously.

"Nothing? You fear touch. You fear that you are a prize to be won. Words can be poison arrows to the heart – just as dangerous as any battle wound to an Elf," Legolas responded passionately. "I do not wish for you to Fade because past hurts never healed."

"I am bright as ever, Legolas. Do not concern yourself with my past. It is over, and nothing you can protect me from now. But promise me fidelity should I stay, and I shall think upon it this night. You will receive your answer at dawn's early light," Harry whispered softly.

"If you should stay, I shall look to no other," Legolas promised. "I shall gaze to the West and hope for good word along with the sun. May I drink from your sweet lips but once before you retire to bed?"

Emerald eyes locked with deep blue.

"You may," the smaller Elf conceded breathlessly.

And Legolas and Harry shared their first sweet kiss under the light of the full moon, with the stars and two pairs of eyes as witness.

One looked on in approval; the other – heartbreak.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Harry left Legolas in the clearing and headed towards the castle. He needed time alone to think upon the choice he faced.

"Glorfindel," Harry greeted as he encountered the taller Elf. "Were you watching us?"

"I wished to make sure that Prince Legolas did not act inappropriately," Glorfindel admitted. "He does care for you, though he hides it behind a charming façade and rakish grin."

"He calls me fascinating and pledges fidelity if I should stay," Harry divulged cautiously. "But I do not know if that is enough. And I do not know that I can trust his words, besides."

"The prince loves you already, though he is not yet willing to admit it. Rejection can pierce even the most closed hearts, and he does not wish to open his to a dagger if you should leave," the blonde advised.

"You are wise, and so I shall trust your words. You believe him true?" the younger Elf sought reassurance.

"As true as the sun rises each morning in the West," the elf-lord responded. "His future – his loyalty and fidelity and hope - is yours if that is what he has promised. Legolas would not lie about such things."

"And what of Thorongil? I know he cares for me," Harry admitted. "He has told me so himself, though he does not wish to pressure me."

"You are good friends, but does passion burn for him in your heart as it does for Legolas?" the Elf questioned.

"Though it shames me, the truth is I want them both equally," Harry confided. "But the prince is right – I know very little of Thorongil's past. He has always avoided my questions. At least with Legolas, there are few secrets as to his ways."

"And do not forget you would have to sacrifice your immortality if you should choose a Man," Glorfindel reminded. "You are very young yet, and the lifetime of a Man may seem long indeed now, but I do not wish for you to regret your decision in the future. Death is not so easy a thing to deal with."

"Thank you. I shall consider your words," Harry murmured as he brushed by the Elf to enter the castle.

Glorfindel waited until Harry was out of earshot, then he smiled softly.

"You have already made your decision, little one. You were his from the moment you let his lips touch yours, else you would not have allowed the prince to kiss you," the Elf whispered, satisfied with his prediction.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Legolas smiled to himself as he walked through the corridors of the castle, heading towards his rooms.

His lips tingled and body burned from the passionate kiss he had just shared with who he hoped would be his future bonded. He need only wait for the sun to rise.

It would be the longest night of his millenia-long life.

Legolas faced a surprise, however, when he entered his room. His latest lover, Rhovanion, was spread naked upon his bed.

"I forgot that we had made plans for tonight," the prince admitted, admiring the sleek form.

"Yes, I suppose you have been distracted by that silly Bearer," his wild lover admitted with a grin. "I have not seen you since the night before last when you stumbled upon him in your private bathing chambers."

The mention of Harry snapped Legolas out of his stupor.

"I pledged him my fidelity should he stay," the prince confided. "I cannot go back on my word."

"Should he stay?" the blonde Elf asked. "And has he decided to do so yet?"

"No," Legolas admitted.

"Then you cannot be held to your promise until he does," his lover reasoned. "Let us have one last night before you are held to your pledge of devotion."

"I do not think he would appreciate such a thing," Legolas stated, mesmerized by the way his naked lover stretched and then sauntered seductively to where he stood in the open doorway.

"He does not have to know, my prince," Rhovanion whispered as he placed his arms around Legolas's neck to pull him into a kiss, lust burning away the traces of Harry's sweetness lingering upon the prince's lips.

As the door shut, neither saw Thenidiel. She stood with shocked, wide eyes as she spied the exchange.

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**Author's Note**: Uh, oh. The plot is getting thick now! Let me know what you think.  
**P.S.** Please go check out my forums. I have a lot of different posts and polls dealing with HP/LoTR crossovers, and I would appreciate some feedback. I'm going to use the forums to help me determine where to go with my stories and what to write next. Thanks. :)


	6. Painful Truths

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Chapter Summary**: Some truths are too painful to hear. Harry deals with Legolas's betrayal. Legolas learns that all actions have consequences.

***************************************************************************************************************************************

_Chapter 5: Painful Truths_

_Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood: 28__th__ of March, 2969_

_Sometime after Midnight_

Harry was getting changed into his nightclothes when someone began frantically pounding on the door to their room.

He exchanged a look with his friend as a feminine voice called, "Thorongil! Thorongil! I must speak with you! Harry cannot stay here!"

"Thenidiel?" Thorongil guessed helplessly.

Harry went to open the door to see the dark-haired Elf.

"Why cannot I stay here?" Harry asked with a small smile. "Is there something wrong with the rooms?"

"No! Not the rooms. Just those who provide them!" the Elf snarled.

"What has King Thranduil done now?" Harry joked.

Thenidiel shot the other Elf a helpless look.

"Thorongil," the Elf murmured sadly. "Harry must return with you to Rohan."

The Man gave her a look.

"He did not dare?" he questioned Thenidiel angrily.

"He dared," she whispered weakly in the face of his rage.

"We are leaving immediately. Wake the men. I cannot…we must leave now," Thorongil ordered.

"I am so sorry," Thenidiel apologized to Harry. "You would have made a good prince."

She left the room quickly to wake the other men in the adjacent rooms.

"What is she sorry about? What is going on, Thorongil?" Harry questioned his friend crossly. "What has happened? Who has dared?"

"I saw you in the clearing before, kissing him," the Man whispered sadly, changing the subject. "I knew he was charming, but I selfishly hoped that you would…I should not have been so selfish."

"You are not making any sense," Harry cried helplessly.

"I confess, I asked Thenidiel to spy upon Legolas for me whenever she had the chance. I needed to be sure he was true before I could leave you here alone," Thorongil admitted as he approached his love.

"No," Harry whispered. "He promised! He **just** promised. Not…he would not! You are lying!"

Harry turned away from him angrily.

"You know I would not lie about this," Thorongil argued. "I only wish for your happiness. Despite my selfish wish that you find it with me, I would not sabotage your chance for immortality with someone who loves you."

The dark-haired Elf broke down crying in Thorongil's arms.

"What…what did I do wrong? I promised him my decision at dawn. He pledged his fidelity if I should stay! I…I allowed him my first kiss! He promised! He promised he would change his ways! He…he promised me the world," Harry finished on a sob. "I should not feel so very betrayed. I knew. I knew what he was like and trusted him anyway. This is my fault."

"No!" Thorongil countered. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing! You are perfect; he is the fool. If I was in his position, I would never have dared look upon another."

Harry did not respond to his friend's passionate declaration.

Thorongil just smiled sadly at his silence.

" We shall depart for Rohan as early as possible. Before the first light of dawn," he stated.

"But…I promised him my decision at dawn," Harry responded weakly.

"He will have your decision when he finds you gone," Thorongil growled angrily. "It is more than he deserves! I should run him through with my sword."

Harry straightened, wiping the tears from his beautiful emerald eyes.

"You are right," he responded. "It is more than he deserves. I wish to never set eyes upon the Prince of Mirkwood again. But I will not forget either. Let this be a lesson for the future."

"You are allowed to feel hurt," Thorongil whispered softly in a delicately pointed ear as he hugged his love tighter.

"I am not some maiden to weep helplessly at my partner's infidelity," Harry snarled, breaking the embrace. "I will move on from this easily. I barely know him."

"You cannot blame yourself. He is handsome and charming, and his attention was flattering," Thorongil stated, reminding Harry of the words he himself had spoken just yesterday morning.

"And I should not have let that flattery get him anywhere," Harry countered. "But better now, I suppose, than later. For I truly was going to stay in Mirkwood to give him a chance. Perhaps this is a sign from the Valar that they did not approve of my decision," Harry pondered, quickly gathering his belongings.

Thorongil watched him sadly for another moment, then left the room to make sure the men were getting ready to depart.

He knew Harry would need some time alone to deal with this.

***************************************************************************************************************************************

"Ready to go?" Thorongil whispered as Harry watched the men mount their horses.

"I wish I could bid the king farewell. We were beginning to get along," Harry said with a sad smile.

"He will understand," Glorfindel assured from behind them, startling the two.

"Glorfindel," Harry stated sadly. "I am sorry to disappoint you so. I know you wished for me to remain in Mirkwood."

"You have done nothing wrong. Legolas was not as true as I thought, and I have given you ill advice. For that, I apologize," Glorfindel stated sorrowfully.

"You need not apologize. He disappointed us both," Harry remarked almost casually as he turned to his horse. "You only proposed what you thought was best."

"May your ways be green and golden," Glorfindel bid as Harry and Thoringel mounted their own stallions. "Perhaps you shall visit me in Rivendell one day?"

"Perhaps," the dark-haired Elf allowed with a small smile. "Fair winds, Glorfindel."

With that, Harry began to head away from the castle. The Men looked to Thorongil for direction, and he told them to go on ahead while he said his own farewells to the elf-lord.

"May thy paths be green and the breeze on thy back," Glorfindel stated. "Take care of him, Estel, and do visit Lord Elrond soon."

"Do not worry about Harry. He is a survivor," Aragorn replied. "Until next we meet, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel stood there watching until Aragorn's form disappeared amid the trees.

***************************************************************************************************************************************

Legolas pulled out and rolled off his lover.

"Well," Rhovanion commented. "That was less inspired that usual."

"I…should not have done this," Legolas whispered. "Perhaps it is best you leave now."

"Oh, and a shorter afterglow than usual, too," Rhovanion mocked as he rose from the bed and gathered his clothes. "The Bearer has you wrapped around his finger already. I shudder to think what you will be like once he gives you children."

"He has not made his decision yet," Legolas stated as his lover got dressed. "Do not come to my rooms again, Rhovanion."

"Well is that not sweet?" the Elf muttered as he slammed the door.

Legolas sighed, looking upon the seed staining the bedcovers. It was the evidence of his shame.

He needed to go into the forest to think.

***************************************************************************************************************************************

"You are a fool," Glorfindel stated flatly.

Legolas dropped down from his perch in the tree.

"An utter fool," the elf-lord snarled. "How could you do this? It is a betrayal of everything we stand for. The king may stand by as you ruin the name of Elves, but I cannot watch you destroy thousands of years of honor for the sake of your libido!"

The prince stared at the other blonde, shocked.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"You dare promise Harry your fidelity and then proceed to your rooms to lay with another? And expect to get away with it?" Glorfindel accused with a glare.

All the blood in drained from Legolas's face.

"How did you know of…" the prince faltered for words.

"Of your indiscretion? Of your _betrayal_?" Glorfindel asked. "The entire castle knows! You kissed your naked lover with an open door not long after you promised another your devotion! Did you expect no one to notice in a castle full of nosy servants?"

"Then Harry…" Legolas began.

"Harry is gone," Glorfindel stated flatly.

The prince looked at him blankly.

"It is not even dawn," Legolas replied. "He promised me his answer at dawn."

"His answer is his absence. He fled the castle in shame," Glorfindel responded furiously. "Estel gathered the men as soon as he heard, and they rode out as soon as possible."

Legolas closed his eyes against the angry words leveled against him by the elf-lord.

"Perhaps he would not have stayed, anyway," Legolas whispered. "He had not made his decision yet."

"If you believe that, you are an even bigger fool than I thought," Glorfindel spat. "Harry was going to _stay_. His decision was made as soon as your lips touched his. He was going to give you a chance. And you destroyed his trust in you. Promising fidelity with one breath and using your next to bed another. You were scared of being committed to him for the rest of your lives. I congratulate you. You have no need to worry now. You may continue your meaningless philandering without recourse."

The prince turned his back against Glorfindel's accusations.

"Well. Are you not going to go after him to at least apologize?" the elf-lord demanded. "You owe him at least that."

"Is there any use? I am sure Estel has already comforted him," the prince whispered bitterly.

"You have the nerve to deny him comfort when you placed him in this situation?" Glorfindel questioned. "I am disgusted that I ever supported you in your weak attempts to court him. You never did look upon him as a being worthy of respect, if you could so soon break your word to him after making it."

"I LOVE HIM!" Legolas yelled, then stopped dead.

"By the Valars, I love him," the prince whispered sadly to himself. "And your predictions were right, Glorfindel. I fought against my feelings, and pushed him away. I shall regret it for the rest of eternity."

"Cease your dramatics," Glorfindel orders. "Why have you acted thus?"

"I did not want to admit I loved him," Legolas stated. "I have never felt so strongly before. There has never been meaning attached to sex for me. But just a kiss from him nearly brought me to my knees in adoration. It was too much. He was too much."

"You did not wish to confront your stronger emotions, so you indulged your weak lust with another," Glorfindel reasoned. "You believe your pledge did not begin until he told you of his decision to stay? You honored the letter of your promise, not the spirit. You should have known better, Legolas."

"I did know better," Legolas admitted. "I did not care. I wanted one last night with another to prove to myself that I…that I had not changed so much. That he had not ruined me for another the minute his lips touched mine. But I was wrong. Rhovanion meant nothing, and I regretted it as soon as it was over."

"Then more fool you. You should be telling Harry this, not I. But it is not yet too late. His is a forgiving soul, and you may still ride after him," Glorfindel stated sadly, knowing the prince's stubborness would not allow him to beg for forgiveness.

"No," Legolas shook his head. "I do not deserve him."

"That is one thing we agree on, at least," Glorfindel acknowledged. "But as Lord Elrond Saw, you are the only suitable Elf. Your actions have condemned him to death. He will live the life of a mortal at Estel's side. Whether in love or friendship, I do not know."

Legolas stared at him, shocked.

"I…did not realize," the prince whispered softly.

"You did not _think_," Glorfindel claimed. "And now your pride stands in the way of his forgiveness."

"Estel would never let me dare even look upon him after what I have done," Legolas claimed.

"So that means you will not even try?" the elf-lord questioned wryly.

The prince did not answer as he walked deeper into the forest, away from Glorfindel and his difficult questions.

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**Author's Note**: All right, so this is a really short chapter, but give me a break – it's the second one today! I just needed Harry to find out about Legolas's betrayal and Legolas to be put in his place by Glorfindel before moving onto the next part of the plot. The next chapter is going to be action-packed, so let's get the emotions out of the way now, no?

*Please check out my forums! I got a bit of a response, and it has a lot of new ideas bouncing around in my head!*


	7. Pride Goeth Before a Fall

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Chapter Summary**:_ Legolas continues to deal with the repurcussions of his actions, though Harry suffers some consequences as well…_

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_Chapter 6: Pride Goeth Before a Fall_

_Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood: 28__th__ of March, 2969_

_Dawn_

The group traveled south along the path towards Forest River. They were half-asleep on their horses, as they had been roused to leave so shortly after midnight. Movements were slow and jerky, as many were approaching a full day without a wink of sleep.

"Thorongil," Harry murmured sleepily. "Perhaps we should take a break and allow ourselves some rest. It is not fair to push your men so hard."

Aragorn cut his beloved a sharp look.

"I wish to leave behind the realm of the Elves with haste," the Man replied, pushing his horse a little faster.

Harry sighed, keeping a steady pace with his friend. They led the group, the other seven Men following sedately behind.

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_Northern Bank of the Forest River: 28__th__ of March, 2969_

_Noon_

"The sun is high overhead," Harry commented. "Perhaps we should dismount and break for lunch before crossing the river.

Aragorn sighed, looking over his weary comrades.

"Halt, Men," he called. "We are going to stop for the day."

"For the day, Thorongil?" Harry questioned with a smile.

"You are right," his friend admitted. "The Men are tired, and we have made good time today. We can resume travel on the morrow."

Harry nodded, then dismounted his horse. Thorongil and the Men followed suit.

"I am going to collect wood for the fire," Harry stated after he had tied his horse to a nearby tree.

As the little Elf headed towards the thicker woods, all hell broke loose.

"Orcs!" one of the Men called, spotting a large group of the monsters stumbling towards them from the forest path they had just passed.

"Harry!" Aragorn called, unsheathing his sword.

The dark-haired Elf was unarmed and closest to the vicious beings.

"Tinechor!" Harry shouted, and a shimmering shield physically held back the orcs' attacks.

And then the orcs were upon them all, and the battle was on.

Although the filthy creatures were smaller and weaker than the Men, they largely outnumbered Thorongil's forces. There were perhaps three or four orcs for every Man, and each was soon isolated and surrounded.

Thorongil quickly cut a swathe through the many orcs surrounding him. Decapitating and disemboweling one after another, his only thought was to reach Harry.

The Elf was surrounded by more than ten of the vile creatures, banging on his shield with clubs and axes. Though his shield protected him physically, it also prevented him from attacking.

With the lack of sleep and weariness, it was just a matter of time before the shield fell from the pressure.

Aragorn quickly cut the legs from a warg. A few of the vicious wolf-like creatures were assisting the orcs in battle.

"Thorongil!" one of the Men called. "We must retreat! We are being overpowered!"

Aragorn took his eyes from Harry's form for a second to assess the state of his Men.

Only three remained standing. Bodies of Men and Orcs alike littered the embankment.

Aragorn's attention was brought sharply back to the battle as an arrow ripped through his tunic to tear a piece of flesh from his side. He glanced to the treeline to see more orcs armed with bows.

"We are surrounded!" another Man called.

Aragorn put a hand to his side. Though the wound was not deep, he could feel weakness set into his bones.

Perhaps the Men would have stood a chance if they were not weary with exhaustion, but he knew it was just a matter of time before they succumbed to the orc's great numbers.

"Ah!" he heard Harry call, just as his vision became blurry.

Aragorn witnessed Harry's shield fall. Harry was knocked unconscious by a blow to the head, and an orc swept the Elf onto the back of a warg before retreating back into the forest.

Before Aragorn succumbed to the darkness, he had half a mind to wonder why the rest of the enemy forces followed and did not finish the remaining Men off.

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Circyn watched as Thorongil fell and the Elf was taken. There was little he could do, as he was engaged in battle and surrounded by far too many orcs.

As the warg with the pretty Elf retreated into the forest, the remaining enemies followed. Circyn dashed towards Thorongil, who lay on the ground not far from where the Elf was taken.

"Thorongil?" he murmured as he bent to examine his leader.

The Man's pulse was thready and weak, though his wound was light.

Poison.

"Addramyr!" he called to the only remaining Man standing. "Check on the others! We must return to the Elves for healing. I fear Thorongil shall not make the journey."

Circyn headed towards the tied horses. Only two had managed to survive the attack, those tied furthest from the forest line. He brought the white stallion forward, and managed to heft Thorongil onto his back.

The white hair was quickly stained red with blood.

Addramyr shook his head sorrowfully.

"There are no other survivors, Circyn. Roryn fell just before the Elf was taken," the burly blonde Man stated.

Circyn shut his eyes tightly. There would be time for mourning, later. If they could, they would return for their fallen comrades' bodies. Now, they had to ride fast to save Thorongil's life.

He urged the horse to begin along the path the orcs just fled, and Addramyr mounted the only remaining horse and followed. They could only hope that the orcs had retreated far into the forest.

Thorongil's life depended on it.

As did their own.

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_A few hours later…_

"My lord!" a dark-haired Elf shouted, bursting into the dining hall. "The Men were attacked by a large band of Orcs just outside the border!"

"What?" King Thranduil questioned, rising from his seat. Legolas followed his father's example, approaching the bearer of such news.

"Three returned, one gravely wounded," the Elf explained. "A scout ran into them as they returned along the southern path. Their leader has already been taken to the healers. Poison, they said."

"And the other two?" Thranduil prompted.

"Weary from battle and from the return journey, but unharmed," the Elf replied.

"Who are they?" Legolas questioned. "Was a dark-haired Elf in their company?"

"I do not know, my prince. Two Men. No others returned with them," was the answer.

Legolas paled drastically and stumbled backwards, disbelieving.

"The others? Did they say what happened to the others?" he pleaded, feeling as if his heart would burst from the pain.

The healthy glow of his skin was already Fading. Thorongil would not have left Harry behind if there was any other choice…

"All dead, my prince," the Elf answered, fearing his prince's reaction.

Legolas let out a cry of pain, and he would have sank to the floor had not Glorfindel supported him.

"We wish to speak to the survivors," the elf-lord stated. "I wish to know exactly what happened."

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Circyn was shocked out of his vigil over Thorongil's bedside by three fair-haired Elves bursting into the healing chambers.

It was the king, the prince, and the lord.

He managed to stumble to his feet to face them, cutting a quick glance at the slumbering Addramyr in the other chair.

The prince looked pale and shaky, the king sad.

"We know you are tired, but a report would be much appreciated," Glorfindel hinted, tone even.

"We were ambushed by a large group of orcs and wargs near the northern embankment of the Forest River as we set down for lunch. We were tired and vastly overnumbered, and quickly overtaken," Circyn murmured. "Thorongil was pierced by a poison arrow, and gravely wounded, though the healer believes he will soon recover. The others are dead."

Legolas let out a gasp of pain.

'_Dead, dead, dead, dead_,' repeated in his head, and he pictured the life bleeding out of beautiful emerald green eyes that had spit fire at him just the night before. How could he have been so stupid? His pride was worthless if all it brought was this pain.

He wanted to drop to his knees and pray to the Valar to wake from this nightmare.

"And how did you and your companion survive, if you were so largely outnumbered?" Glorfindel questioned.

"Did you leave him there?" Legolas questioned angrily, looking to share the blame with another. "Just abandon him to save your own skin?"

"Silence, Legolas," Glorfindel ordered sternly. "Let him explain."

"I fought just as bravely as any other," Circyn defended. "The orcs retreated once Thorongil fell and they captured the Elf."

"Captured?" the king questioned.

"Yes," Circyn confirmed. "He was nearest to the tree line when they attacked. Though his magic shield held for a while, there were just too many. The Elf was knocked unconscious and dragged away upon the back of a warg."

"There is still hope, then," Legolas whispered. "I am departing for the scene of battle immediately. Perhaps I can track the orcs back to their encampment and rescue Harry."

The hope filled his chest with warmth. He was going to steal his heart back, no matter what it took…

Legolas quickly departed from the room, his father watching with sad eyes.

"H-harry…" Aragorn murmured from his bed, eyes opening blearily. "Took h-him. N-need to…"

Aragorn gasped as a shudder wracked his large frame.

"Lay back," the healer commanded as he rushed to the Man's bedside. "You were poisoned. You are feverish and weak, and in no condition to do anything."

"We will return soon, my friend," Glorfindel murmured as the healer put Aragorn back to sleep. "Thank you for your information. It was most helpful."

"You are welcome to rest as long as you would like," King Thranduil offered the Man. "There is no rush."

Glorfindel and Thranduil left the healing chambers, following Legolas to the armory.

"Glorfindel…" the king began, just before they entered the armory. "Even if you manage to rescue Harry from the orcs, chances are…"

"I know," Glorfindel murmured back softly. "I was there after Celebrian was returned from the orcs' capture. There is a large chance that Harry will Fade anyway."

"And my son will follow soon after," the king replied sadly.

"We will have to trust in his strength," Glorfindel comforted.

"My son is strong," Thranduil defended. "His feelings are too strong; that is why I worry."

"I was speaking of Harry," the elf-lord corrected before opening the door and slipping into the room.

The king stared at the shut door in bewilderment.

He had better inform the stable to prepare the two fastest horses. Though if there were as many orcs as the Man reported, his son would need reinforcements…

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Glorfindel entered the armory, watching Legolas quickly strap daggers to each thigh. The prince also grabbed a sword and a bow, as well as a full quiver of arrows.

"You are not willing to sacrifice your pride for his heart, but you are willing to sacrifice your life to save his?" Glorfindel questioned Legolas, quickly choosing his own weapons.

The prince glanced at him quickly, then headed towards the door.

Glorfindel followed.

As they quickly approached the stables, Legolas murmured, "You were right. I am a fool."

The elf-lord looked at the prince in shock. He had not expected such a declaration.

"If…if I had not…he would be safe within the castle walls right now. Instead, Harry is left to the mercy of the orcs, and I know they have little. Especially…" Legolas shuddered as horrible thoughts and images passed through his mind's eye.

"You fear he will sail to Valinor, even should we rescue him," Glorfindel pointed out reasonably.

"I would follow," Legolas swore. "And I would spend the rest of eternity begging his forgiveness. Damn my pride, I would fall upon my knees and crawl behind him as a slave until he deemed me fit to once again stand tall by his side."

"Those are pretty words," Glorfindel commented. "Let us see if you shall live up to them."

Legolas scowled, knowing he deserved the elf-lord's pointed commented. It was true: the prince was very good with words.

He just needed his actions to suit.

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King Thranduil and a group of about fifty warrior-elves met Glorfindel and Legolas at the gate.

"The Man estimated that there were about sixty to seventy orcs and a dozen wargs," the king stated. "With Glorfindel at your side and these Elves behind you, you should have no trouble with a thousand."

"You gathered them quickly, ada," Legolas commented, mounting his horse. "Do you not think it overkill?"

"I am not doubting your skills, but it is better to be safe," the king replied. "You and Glorfindel alone could no doubt rescue Harry, but there is no reason to go alone."

Legolas made to protest, but Glorfindel silenced him with a look.

"Thank you, Thranduil," the noble Elf said gratefully. "We shall remove the menace from your forest, though Harry is our top priority."

The other Elves quickly mounted their horses, following Legolas and Glorfindel as they took to the path Harry and Thorongil had traveled just hours before.

And though Legolas blamed himself, with good cause, for making Harry leave, the prince swore to the Valar that he would find some way to return his love in good health.

And he would not stray from Harry's side once this mission was accomplished.

If the Valar granted him Harry's safety and well-being, he swore that he would never lay eyes upon another in lust again.

And that was one promise that Legolas would not break.

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"Fair winds, my son," King Thranduil murmured softly as he watched the band Elves depart, Legolas in the lead. "May the Valar guide your path."

He turned to the castle, not noticing the Man who stole away behind the group on a large brown mare.

His absence would be noted in the healing chambers not fifteen minutes later, but by then it was too late.

Aragorn would not fail his love again.

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**Author's Note**: I promised you action – I hope that was enough. I know there wasn't much Harry this chapter – he will be the star of the next.

Please go check out my new story Little Lord of the Home: Teaser. It is a Haldir/Harry, where a mischevious Harry attempts to seduce the strict, rule-abiding Haldir.

Also, I tried a Legolas/Harry PWP, titled Princes Do Not Share (Or How Legolas Teaches Harry a Lesson). The unedited version is on adultfanfiction . net (see the link in my profile), but an edited version will be available on this site.

And please continue to check out my forums. They are a great source of new ideas and inspiration for me, and I would appreciate votes in my polls and comments on my opinions. Thanks. *offers cookies*


	8. The Witchking of Angmar

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Chapter Summary**:Harry learns the identity of his captor and what exactly is wanted from him.

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_Chapter 7: _The Witch-king of Angmar

_Northern Mirkwood: 28__th__ of March, 2969_

_Twilight_

Harry's head pounded, but when he tried to rub his temples, he discovered he could not move his arms.

Emerald eyes snapped open.

Harry took in his surroundings. He was shackled wrists and ankles to a post in a clearing. The sky was getting darker – hours had passed since his shield had fallen. The clearing was full of orcs and wargs, though few were near him.

A black robed figure caught his attention. Broad and tall, the Man was wearing a large helmet that completely covered his face.

"The prisoner has awoken, my lord," a whispery voice called from his left.

Harry started, staring into dark red eyes set in a pale, pale face.

Nazgul.

The green-eyed Elf struggled in his bindings, trying to call up his magic, but his head was pounding and his stomach churning, and he felt the waves of power slip away.

"Ah, ah," a deep voice admonished. "None of that. Your magic will do you no good here, my pretty little Elf."

Harry's emerald eyes sought to pierce the darkness of that helmet, but it was no use. The face was shadowed, hiding his expression.

His deep voice betrayed amusement.

"Who are you?" the Elf spat. "Coward! You sent the orcs to do battle for you!"

"I saw recognition in your eyes when you looked upon Khamul, my dear. Can you not guess as to who I may be?" the deep voice purred as the figure approached where Harry was tied.

One pale, cold hand rose to stroke Harry's smooth cheek, and emerald eyes widened in alarm.

"The Witch-king of Angmar!" he spat, attempting to jerk his skin away from those cool, spindly fingers.

"Oh, I prefer Lord of the Nazgul, or Chief of the Nine. Even Lord of Minas Morgul. I no longer rule Angmar, you know. And what immortal Ringwraith wishes to be called a 'witch'?" the voice shot back, amused.

"Oh, and as for my cowardliness, as you so delicately put it: I thought it a bit overkill to sent my Nazgul to capture you when I knew the orcs would do. Not that the Men did not die anyway," he laughed.

Harry closed his eyes in pain…Thorongil…

"You lie," he whispered. "They are strong…"

The Witch-king chuckled darkly.

"Did you think your Man would allow you to be captured if he was not dead?" the dark figure murmured.

"H-how did you…?" Harry questioned, unsure and uncertain.

How had the Witch-king known of Thorongil's feelings?

"I watched your group from the moment you passed out of the borders of the Elven Realm, waiting for the perfect time to strike," the figure admitted. "The Men were tired and weary, and you were separated from most by quite a distance."

Harry's head fell back against the post in despair. It was all his fault…had he not allowed Thorongil to push the Men so hard…had he allowed the Men to sleep and given Legolas his answer at dawn before departing…

"But that is no matter now," the Witch-king murmured. "For they are gone, and you are here. The murmurings of your beauty and unique power finally reached Minas Morgul some weeks ago, and Lord Sauron sent me to follow your trail. Imagine my pleasure and surprise when my informants told me that you had left the side of Gandalf."

Harry pushed back the tears from his eyes and the bile from his throat, and summoned all of his courage.

"What do you want, you monster?" he snarled, spitting onto the Witch-king's helmet.

A chuckle was his response, as cold fingers finally left his face.

Pale hands went to remove the black helmet, revealing a pale, pale face with gleaming golden-white hair and a shining crown.

"I already have what I want," the Man murmured, moving his larger body closer to Harry's bound one. "You, in my possession."

Harry faltered at the look in those cruel blue eyes.

"No answer?" the Witch-king chuckled, putting his pale hands on the soft tunic covering Harry's chest. "I so look forward to your fire."

"I am not entertainment!" Harry snarled, attempting to twist his body away from the proprietary touches.

"Ah, you are right in that," the deep voice murmured. "You shall be so much more. I have been waiting millenia for an Elf capable of bearing my children. Your race is very protective of its females, and Elves are nearly impossible to capture alive – your pride will not allow it. But the wait was worth it, my lovely. You are perfect. My child shall be just as immortal as I, just as beautiful as you, and powerful enough to make Lord Sauron think twice."

Harry emerald eyes widened in terror.

"You…you cannot force an Elf!" he countered. "I shall Fade and wither away to nothing before I let you touch me in that manner!"

The Witch-king stepped back with another cruel chuckle.

"There are ways, my lovely. There are ways," he said ominously. "I shall leave you to think on your future. It will be much more pleasant if you comply willingly."

"Never!" Harry swore.

The Lord of Minas Morgul ignored him, turning his back and walking to where most of the Nazul were gathered.

"It could be worse," the Nazgul that the Witch-king had called Khamul stated.

"How so?" Harry snarled.

"He could take you forcefully, uncaring whether you Fade. Then we would each get a turn with your beautiful body before feeding you piece by piece to the orcs," Khamul whispered cruelly with a smirk.

Harry had no response to that.

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_Meanwhile…_

"Senseless beasts," Legolas snarled as they came upon the northern embankment of Forest River.

The sand was littered with the five dead bodies of the Men of Rohan, and many more orcs.

"That is true," Glorfindel agreed. "Orcs and wargs do not act on their own direction, especially not like this. They attacked in large numbers, ambushing the group just as they dismounted their horses. The orcs attacked until they managed to capture Harry, and then immediately retreated. That is unusual behavior."

Legolas nodded his head in agreement, dismounting his own horse to investigate the scene more closely.

"Those Men should not have returned alive," he murmured. "If the attack was as overpowering as that Man claimed, the orcs should have finished them off and then stayed to feast on the dead flesh of Men and Orc alike."

"I believe this is where Harry was captured," Glorfindel pointed out near the treeline.

Legolas nodded, seeing signs of a large disturbance at that spot, and then leading into the forest.

The prince and lord remounted their stallions, beckoning the other Elves to follow their lead.

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Aragorn brought his horse to the clearing where earlier in the day he had nearly died.

Where earlier in the day his heart had been stolen.

He dismounted and stumbled off the stallion, feverish eyes taking in the scene of so much pain and death. Hand going to his side, he pulled it back to find it stained red with his own blood.

Aragorn set his jaw against the pain and shouldered on. Harry needed him.

He went to the spot where the Elf had been surrounded and attacked on all sides, finding evidence that Legolas and Glorfindel had already followed the trail of the orcs' retreat back into the forest.

Aragorn remounted his stallion with difficulty and followed.

He would not fail his love again.

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_A few hours later…_

"Are you hungry, my pretty?" the Witch-king asked, again stroking Harry's fair cheek.

"I would rather starve than take food from you!" the Elf snarled, teeth snapping towards the caressing fingers.

The pale Man managed to bring his hand back just into time to avoid being bitten.

"So feisty. So much fire," he murmured, lust burning in his eyes.

"Why do you not release me, and then I shall show you fire!" Harry replied, pulling against his chains.

The skin around his wrists was chafed and broken from his struggled, and a droplet of bright red blood slid down his pale forearm.

The Witch-king leaned forward and lapped up the blood with a warm, wet tongue.

"You taste so sweet," he whispered. "Will all of you taste so sweet?"

"You will never find out!" Harry replied, trembling.

The Witch-king took in the watching Nazgul and Orcs, and smirked cruelly.

"Oh, I will find out, though I believe I shall wait until our return to Minas Morgul. I do not wish anyone else to see us in our passion," he whispered into one delicately pointed ear.

Harry turned in an another attempt to bite him, but he just pulled away and chuckled.

"There will be no passion! I will Fade before I let your slimy hands touch me in such a way!" Harry declared, emerald eyes spitting fire.

"I am sure Lord Sauron will find a way around that little problem," the Witch-king murmured, firelight glinting off his gleaming hair, making him appear as if alight. "It is amazing what sorcery can do, and even more amazing what a Maia can do. Even if you should Fade, the Dark Lord has the power to bring you back."

"I cannot give you life if I am undead," Harry spat. "And you may have my body, but my soul shall be safe in Valinor."

That drew anger from the Witch-king, and he delivered a blow to Harry's cheek. The pale skin blossomed red immediately, and the Elf licked a bit of blood from his split lip.

"Do you not like the truth, my lord?" the emerald-eyed youth asked mockingly.

The Witch-king took a deep breath and visibly calmed himself.

"Look what you made me do, my pet," he murmured, hand softly stroking the pale skin he had so recently damaged. "And you shall bear me my immortal heirs, have no doubt of that. I have been waiting far too long for one such as you."

The Witch-king stepped back and away from the young Elf, afraid his temper getting out of hand and harming his prisoner more than he wanted.

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"He is sick," Legolas whispered from the surrounding trees, grey eyes glaring holes into the dark form of the Witch-king. "I shall offer his head to Harry on a platter after this battle is through."

"Have you not heard my prophecy?" Glorfindel murmured, waving the Elven warriors to surround the encampment.

He took stock of the enemy numbers. There were perhaps fifty orcs and ten wargs left from the earlier battle.

The Nazgul were the true problem. Thankfully, all nine were not present. There was the Witch-king of Angmar himself, his lieutenant Khamul, and three others.

Glorfindel was confident that they could succeed in defeating them in all-out battle.

The problem was recovering Harry alive, for he feared that the Captain of Despair would kill the young Elf before he allowed him escape.

"I am no Man," Legolas snarled.

Glorfindel shook his head, he knew that he would not sway the prince from his vengeance.

"We shall wait until the first light of morning," the elf-lord whispered.

The surrounding Elves nodded their heads, prepared for the wait.

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_Meanwhile…_

Aragorn stopped his horse for the night. It was too dark to follow the trail, and he could feel the poison working through his veins…

He believed the Elves would wait for morning, as orcs were greatly weakened by sunlight. He was just rest until it was light enough to continue following the trail…

Aragorn curled up at the base of a tree, immediately passing out. Disturbing images of Harry's capture and treatment raced through his dreams, made worse by the fever wracking his body and the poison working itself through his blood.

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Harry was exhausted, but the uncomfortable position in which he was chained and the monsters surrounding him on all sides prevented his sleep. He felt the hungry eyes of the orcs and wargs, and the lustful eyes of the Wraith-king and his Nazguls.

But their slimy gazes were unimportant in the face of what he had lost that day.

Despair filled him at the thought of Thorongil's death.

The Man who was his first, true friend after Gandalf, the Man who promised to teach him sword fighting to protect himself, the Man who admitted his love and affection…

That Man was dead, because Harry was gullible enough to fall for Prince Legolas's pretty words and then be hurt when the prince did not follow through.

Harry pushed the tears and the grief back, determined not to cry in front of his captors.

He wished he had died in that clearing alongside Thorongil, but he would not spit on the Man's memory by showing these cruel creatures his weakness.

Besides, Harry knew he would not make the journey back to Minas Morgul and the Dark Lord Sauron.

He could already feel himself Fading.

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**Author's Note**: I know this was short; I know! *ducks rotten tomatoes* But I figured a quick, short chapter before the action we all know is coming next time…

Let me know what you think, either through a review or in my forums…

And go check out my new series of oneshots, Princes Do Not Share. The first chapter is Legolas/Harry and titled _How Legolas Teaches Harry a Lesson_ and the second chapter is Elladan/Harry/Elrohir and titled _Of Minxes and Their Worshipful Devotees_. There will be more of Harry and his possessive princes in the future…


	9. Strength of Soul

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Chapter Summary**: The battle for Harry's life begins.

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_Chapter 8: Strength of Soul_

_Northern Mirkwood: 29__th__ of March, 2969_

_Pre-Dawn_

Harry's eyes wearily twitched open.

He did not remember falling asleep, and neither his body nor his mind felt rejuvenated at all. His pale skin was dull in the early light before morning, his green eyes glazed. He knew he did not have long before his soul departed.

Harry listlessly took in the scene before him. Most of the orcs were asleep or dozing, but the Witch-king of Angmar sat near the fire, surrounded by Khamul and three more Nazgul.

The Elf tried to drudge up the will to care, but all he felt was a dull ache in his chest. So he simply rested his head back against the post he was still tied to, closing his eyes and trying not to think about a lifeless Thorongil.

He could not wait to see the Grey Havens.

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The Witch-king of Angmar looked upon his pretty little Elf. The Bearer was forcing himself to Fade, probably using the supposed death of the Ranger to overwhelm himself in grief.

The leader of the Ringwraiths smirked cruelly to himself. He had left those Men alive on purpose.

Love was always sweetest when destroyed by betrayal, and not by death.

The Elf would not be allowed to Fade, and the pretty thing would kneel at his side for eternity knowing that his love had left him to his fate.

It was almost time.

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Legolas's pale grey eyes continued to study Harry's form. The light was slowly seeping from his skin and eyes, and the prince could see the pain deep in those beautiful emerald orbs. He could barely stand watching Harry Fade before his very eyes, but they needed to wait until the sun rose.

Legolas took a deep breath, eyes latched onto the weak rise and fall of his love's chest. He prayed that Harry had the strength of soul needed to live through this terrible ordeal.

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_Meanwhile…_

Aragorn opened still-feverish eyes, feeling a bit better after his rest.

Though his wound was still seeping blood, and his limbs felt heavy, Aragorn quickly mounted his horse and began following the tracks once again.

He had not meant to sleep so long, but he would need the extra strength for the battle he knew was ahead.

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_Dawn_

As the first rays of light illuminated the clearing, Legolas and the Elves made their move.

In unison, they strung their bows, aiming to take out the orcs first. Their numbers were about even, so one well-timed, well-aimed volley would slay most of the large group of vicious creatures.

Glorfindel was the only Elf not to string his bow. He removed his sword from its sheath, allowing Legolas to give the signal when to attack.

With a nod from their prince, the Elves surrounding the clearing let their arrows fly strong and true.

The battle was on.

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Harry opened blurry eyes as the sound of metal piercing flesh and the rotten scent of orc-blood filled the air.

His vision was dark around the edges, but he made out golden hair gleaming in the early morning light.

Elves…

Legolas…

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Bodies of orcs lay motionless, covering most of the clearing with their corpses. Glorfindel cut a swath through the attacking wargs, quickly sending their bodies to join those of the orcs as he made his way towards the four dark-robed figures of the Nazgul.

He had promised Legolas their leader.

So Glorfindel would keep the undead minions occupied while Legolas engaged in a solo battle and the remaining Elves worked to remove the stain of every last orc and warg from Mirkwood Forest.

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"Face me, you coward!" Legolas shouted, sword cutting off the head of yet another orc blocking his path to the Witch-king.

"You amuse me so, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood," the cruel creature murmured, sure that the Elf's sensitive ears would catch his comment. "Fighting now for the love you so cruelly cast aside."

Legolas faltered for a moment at the words, eyes shooting towards Harry's listless figure.

A warg tried to take advantage of his distraction, leaping up to tackle him, just for the prince's sword to pierce through the soft skin of his inner mouth to his brain, killing him instantly.

"You know nothing of which you speak!" Legolas snarled, finally facing the Witch-king of Angmar with nothing but air and armor between them.

Legolas and the Witch-king circled each other warily, each with sword drawn and wary eyes. The leader of the Nazguls smirked wickedly at the elf-prince before thrusting forward.

Legolas evaded the swipe and countered, grazing the monster's left side. He was much faster and lighter on his feet than the Witch-king, but he knew his opponent doubtlessly had a poisoned blade, and just one break of his skin could mean his death.

The pale lips of the twisted Man before him curled in a snarl.

"First blood," Legolas mocked, goading the Witch-king into a reckless thrust.

Spotting an opening, Legolas left a deep wound in his opponent's right inner thigh, dangerously close to the shaft that would have violated his love against his will.

"Aiming at my vulnerabilities?" the Nazgul jeered.

"Why ever not? You would aim at mine," the Prince of Mirkwood replied, mind firmly on the battle.

Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw Glorfindel subdue the last of the three Nazgul.

But where was the lieutenant?

Another drive from the Witch-king brought his mind back to the battle before him, as the sound of clashing metal filled the clearing. He would have to trust his fellow Elves to take care of the remaining enemies.

"Your orcs and wargs are dead, and your Nazguls are on their knees before my fellow Elves," Legolas derided. "Will you not concede? Even if you should defeat me, you would have to deal with fifty more elf-warriors."

"I am in a better position than you realize," the Witch-king sneered.

Legolas caught his weak left side again, leaving a deeper wound. His enemy was slowing.

"I am glad," the prince replied. "It will be greater vengeance if you are fighting back when I kill you."

The Witch-king grimaced in pain as another blow caught his right leg. His knees buckled, and he fell at Legolas's feet.

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Harry winced as he was roughly removed from his chains. His arms fell limply to his sides, shooting pain as the blood rushed back into the sore limbs. He was pulled roughly against a hard, cold body, and he felt sharp metal press painfully against the soft skin of his throat.

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The Witch-king of Angmar knelt defeated, and the clearing fell silent as the Prince of Mirkwood leant forward to deal the killing blow.

A loud cry broke through the red haze filling Legolas's mind, and he pulled his thrust at the smirk on the Ringwraith's face. His sword rested on the cruel monster's pale neck as he turned his head to spot Harry in the arms of the Nazgul lieutenant, a wicked looking knife touching the delicate skin of his throat.

"I think I have what you want," Khamul taunted. "But the question is: do you value his life over your revenge?"

To punctuate his question he pressed the knife more firmly into Harry's neck, making the Elf cry out in pain and blood spill down the front of his tunic.

Legolas glanced down into the cruel eyes of his smirking enemy.

The Witch-king was not as defeated as he thought.

"Release Harry, and I pledge my honor that I will let you go free," Legolas offered.

Khamul glanced around the clearing, taking stock of the battle. Every single orc and warg lay dead, their bodies scattered at the Elves' feet. The Witch-king knelt defeated at the point of the elf-prince's sword, while the tall elf-lord Glorfindel had subdued the remaining three Nazgul. Only Khamul was in any position of power.

"Can I trust your honor, Elf?" Khamul sneered. "After all, we all know why this pretty little thing left your castle to begin with."

Legolas refused to let himself be goaded by the Nazgul's words.

"Deliver him into the hands of one of my fellow Elves, and you shall go from here unharmed," Legolas stated.

Khamul stared him straight in the eye, and dug the knife in deeper. Legolas fought to keep his face blank as more red blood was spilled.

"I think I am going to take him with me," the Nazgul stated. "And you will let me pass, or he will die."

Legolas shook his head.

"He will die anyway if I leave him with you," the prince stated.

The garnered a cruel smirk, and Khamul removed the knife from Harry's neck to press the broad side to one pale cheek. He stroked the knife down in a cold imitation of a caress, making Harry stay perfectly still lest the sharp point remove his eye.

The Nazgul pulled the Elf in closer to his body, dipping his head to suck harshly at the pale skin, staring Legolas in the eye all the while.

"I will make sure he enjoys it," Khamul smirked. "But he is just too sweet to let go."

Every Elf in the clearing got noticeably stiffer at the comment, but they kept their notched bows aimed at the floor, not wanting to provoke him further. But the moment he made a mistake and left himself vulnerable…

Harry whimpered, pale skin dulling even further, and Legolas sought to meet those beautiful green eyes.

He just wanted to take the Elf into his arms and soothe the pain and desperation away. He needed that skin to glow like it was supposed to, and those gorgeous eyes to spit fire at him like they should.

"You will not get out of here alive if you do not give him to me now," Glorfindel interrupted. "The Witch-king will die; these Nazguls at my feet will die; **you** will die. And it will not be a pleasant end; I can assure you of that. You are completely surrounded, and you will not pass unless we allow you to do so."

Khamul smiled at the elf-lord, and he trailed the cold knife down Harry's cheek to the top of his tunic. He slid the knife under and began to cut the fabric down the middle.

"Stop!" Legolas shouted, composure shattering at the deathly pallor Harry's skin was taking. "You are killing him!"

Khamul laughed evilly.

"I would not mind fucking a corpse," he said cruelly, knife cutting more of the shirt and blood welling where it cut lightly into the Elf's skin. "Would you mind loving one? If you let me go now, I will be on the run, and most likely not touch him for a while. If I kill him now…he is dead."

"I…I w-would rather die," Harry whispered past his parched throat.

Then the Elf suddenly went limp, and Khamul struggled under the dead weight, knife piercing Harry's stomach in his effort. Harry bit the Nazgul's arm, and Khamul recoiled. An arrow came from behind Legolas, hitting Khamul in the shoulder and making him stumble backwards.

The Elves went to shoot him, but the Witch-king managed to get free of Legolas's blade at the prince's distraction, and smoke filled the clearing.

"Sorcery!" Glorfindel shouted, warning the Elves. Most backed away from the smoke, but Legolas rushed to the ground where Harry had crumpled.

The Witch-king and his Nazguls disappeared.

And the big, broad form of the Man who had shot the arrow that saved Harry's life stumbled over to Legolas's side.

"Estel!" Glorfindel hissed. "You were not supposed to leave the healing chambers."

"A-and if I h-had not, he would be d-dead," Aragorn panted, falling to his knees at Harry's side.

His love's skin was pale and clammy, and his green eyes were glazed. The Man reached out a shaky hand to touch his forehead.

It was burning.

"He is feverish," Aragorn murmured to Legolas.

"As are you," the prince replied, sweeping Harry gently into his arms. "We must return to the castle immediately. He is Fading."

"And what will the castle do to help him?" Aragorn muttered. "Give him to me. He is not physically injured, except for a few cuts."

"But you are," Legolas argued. "And you cannot carry him in your condition."

"Legolas…" Aragorn growled, but he was cut off by a weary moan.

"T-Thorongil?" Harry whispered, eyes wide and disbelieving as they locked onto his supposedly dead friend's face. "Am I d-dead?"

"Shh, love," Aragorn soothed, eyes only for the beautiful Elf. "You will be fine."

"N-no. You…dead. My fault," Harry murmured feverishly. "Witch-king…"

"He lied to you. I was poisoned, but the Elves healed me. I will live," Aragorn comforted, pushing his own pain and exhaustion back.

He lifted one large, tan hand to smooth the dark hair out of his love's eyes, the other going to softly caress a pale cheek.

"So…so scared," Harry sobbed, tears falling from his eyes. "He…"

"He will never touch you again," Aragorn promised, dark grey eyes meeting the Elf's seriously. "Never."

"T-trust you," his love smiled weakly. "S-stay?"

"Of course," Aragorn stated. "But you have to stay with me, all right. Think of the long life you have ahead of you. Do not Fade and let him win. I know you are stronger than that."

Harry nodded softly, going limp in Legolas's arms.

"Harry?" Aragorn questioned, panicked. "Harry?"

"He is just sleeping," Glorfindel reassured. "We must return to the castle."

Legolas nodded, delicately handing Harry to Glorfindel before mounting his horse. Then he held his arms out to the elf-lord.

"Legolas…" Glorfindel hesitated.

"Estel is too weak; you should help him. I can carry Harry," he stated firmly.

Glorfindel nodded and complied, not wanting to waste any more time.

He mounted his own horse, pulling Aragorn onto the back before the Man could even attempt to stumble over to ride alone. Another Elf could grab that horse.

"Patrol the area," Glorfindel told the elf-warriors. "Kill any orcs or wargs on sight, and look for the Witch-king and his Nazgul. Travel in groups of at least ten. I do not want you to be separated and picked off one by one."

The Elves nodded, not questioning his command, and took off to fulfill it.

Legolas raced back to the castle, Harry pale and breathing weakly in his arms. As long as that chest continued to rise and fall, Legolas knew he could continue.

He did not want to think of the alternative.

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**Author's Note**: Well, this chapter was really hard to write for me. Let me know what you think about the battle scenes, please.


	10. Physical Healing

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

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_Chapter 9: Physical Healing_

_Northern Mirkwood: 29__th__ of March, 2969_

_Afternoon_

Legolas rode long and hard to get back to the castle as quickly as possible. Harry was breathing weakly, and his skin was pale and cold. His little Elf needed a healer as soon as possible.

The Prince of Mirkwood brought his horse to a stop just outside the main gate. He swung himself off the horse gracefully, still cradling Harry gently in his arms.

"My prince!" one of the guards shouted as they saw the still bundle in his arms. "Is he…"

"He will be fine!" Legolas snarled as Glorfindel caught up, and he and Aragorn dismounted. "I am bringing him to the healing chambers. I want every healer in this castle in that room within moments!"

Glorfindel helped support Aragorn as they followed some ways behind Legolas. The younger blonde Elf was walking quickly, but still slow enough that he would not jostle Harry unnecessarily.

A servant opened the door to the healing chambers, and Legolas slipped inside with his precious little Elf. He placed Harry gently upon a bed in the center of the room, sitting down in a chair nearby and keeping one cold hand within his own for reassurance.

A healer came to Harry's bedside immediately, placing one cool hand upon his forehead to find him burning up.

"He is Fading," she whispered sadly.

"Just heal his injuries!" Legolas commanded. "He will be fine."

Saerwen looked upon her prince sadly, seeing the signs of his own grief should this little Elf die.

"I will need you to cut his clothes off," the red-haired Elf said seriously. "I need access to his wounds. Wash your hands, grab that paste there, and…"

Legolas quickly and efficiently did everything as she bid, happy to be of some use.

Saerwen attended to her patient gently and steadily, relieved when his breathing grew steadier and evened out. However, she could still see the signs of Fading, and she knew that it would take more to heal the little Elf's mental wounds…

That was something that Legolas and Harry would have to do on their own, though. Saerwen could not help them with that.

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Glorfindel watched calmly as Legolas stormed into the primary healing chambers, and then he gently steered Aragorn to where the guards indicated the Men were staying. Aragorn would be no help to Harry as he was, nearly dead on his feet with exhaustion and fatigue.

However, the Man was lucky enough that most of the poison had run its course, and his fever was already beginning to go down. A few days rest would return him to top shape.

Glorfindel prayed to the Valar that Harry was so lucky, else he knew that the little Elf would not be the only one to Fade…

"Thorongil!" Circyn greeted, rising to his feet hastily as his leader stumbled through the door to the healing chambers. "You left while I was asleep."

Aragorn gazed at the other Man blankly, letting go of Glorfindel and collapsing upon the bed.

"I needed to help rescue Harry," he murmured. "All will be well now. I just need some rest."

With that, the large Man drifted to sleep. Circyn sighed in relief, glad his commander had returned safely. When he had woken up to find Thorongil's bed empty, he knew the Man had left to chase his love.

Circyn had feared he would never return. It would have been a great loss to all the Men of Middle Earth.

"He will be fine after some rest," Glorfindel reassured the blonde Man. "Make sure he stays in bed this time."

Circyn nodded his agreement, and after the blonde Elf left the room, he pulled his chair over to the only door.

This time, if Thorongil tried to leave, he would have to go through him, not just sneak out while Circyn and Addramyr were asleep…

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Glorfindel walked down the hallways towards the king's personal chambers. No doubt King Thranduil had already been informed of his son's return, but the blonde Elf knew that the king would need to hear the details of battle to be satisfied.

They also had to send Elves out to collect the bodies of the dead Men, as well as burn the bodies of the orcs and wargs.

Not to mention that Mirkwood Elves needed to know that there was still a very serious threat just outside the castle walls…

Glorfindel had very little hope that the Elves he sent to patrol would capture the Witch-king of Angmar and his Nazguls.

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_A few hours later…_

Legolas sat by Harry's bedside, gently holding one pale hand in his own larger one. His other hand was tenderly wiping sweat from Harry's brow with a wet cloth.

Though Harry's fever had subsided greatly, he had still not woken up. The healer claimed that the Elf was in a recuperative coma. Between the mental anguish on his mind from his capture, the emotional turmoil of believing Thorongil dead and himself lost to rescue, and an unhealthy lack of food, water, and sleep, she had told her prince that it was a miracle Harry had not Faded.

Legolas thanked the Valar for Harry's strength and the answer to his prayer. His love was safe within the walls of the castle, and Legolas would not leave his side until Harry woke and sent him away.

Because after everything the little Elf had gone through because of his broken promise, Legolas dared not hope that Harry would ever forgive him, nevermind stay in Mirkwood.

"Has his fever gone down?" Glorfindel questioned as he came into the room with a plate of food and some water.

Legolas pressed his lips gently to Harry's forehead once again, relieved that his skin was only slightly warm.

"Quite a bit," Legolas answered. "Whatever poison was on that blade must be nearly out of his system."

Khamul's knife had left thin, shallow wounds on Harry's throat and upper chest and a deeper wound in his lower abdomen. The healer had cleaned and stitched the one on his stomach, stating that though none of Harry's vital organs were punctured, there was a great chance the Nazgul's blade imparted poison into the Elf's bloodstream.

"That is good," Glorfindel acknowledged. "Estel will make a full recovery after a bit of rest."

Legolas nodded, grateful that his old friend and new rival would soon be healthy.

He had already seen what it would do to Harry, otherwise.

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**Author's Note**: This is my shortest chapter so far, but I thought I would get a start on Harry's healing – at least the physical aspects of it. I have been a bit distracted by my other stories lately, but I hope focus on My Warriors, My Beloveds a bit more in the coming weeks.

Please review and let me know what you think. ^_^


	11. GoodByes

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

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_Chapter 10: Good-Byes_

_Northern Mirkwood: 30__th__ of March, 2969_

_Late Morning_

"Mmm," Harry moaned, fighting his way to consciousness.

"Shh," a musical voice soothed. "Relax. You are safe."

"Th-Thorongil?" Harry questioned. "Is he..?"

"He is fine," came the response. "Do you wish for me to send for him?"

Harry managed to open his eyes, despite his heavy lids.

"L-Legolas?" he asked, shocked that the prince was by his bedside.

"Do you wish for me to send for Thorongil?" the blonde asked again.

Harry nodded slightly, wincing when a pain shot through his head.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked, concerned.

"F-fine," Harry replied, shocked as the blonde gently pushed back his hair from his face.

There was so much love in those grey eyes…

But then why would Legolas do what he did? It did not make any sense…

Legolas gave him a gentle smile and then turned to talk to the Elf guarding the door. They exchanged a soft conversation, too low for even Harry's Elven ears to pick up. The guard nodded, exiting the healing chambers.

"Thorongil will be here soon," Legolas told his love.

Harry looked at him with searching green eyes.

"Why…why did you break your promise?" he questioned, staring at a spot over Legolas's shoulder.

"Because I am the greatest fool to ever exist," Legolas swore, falling to his knees beside Harry's bed and gently holding up one delicate hand. "I was afraid you would stay. Afraid that you would not. I was afraid of my feelings – of just how much you could make me love. I was a fool. And I know that after everything that has happened, I have no right to beg for forgiveness…but I shall do it anyway. I love you, and I am sorry, and I shall never, ever look upon another in the way I look upon you, even should you cast me aside as I so deserve."

Stunned green eyes met earnest grey, and Harry opened his mouth to respond.

But the door to the healing chambers opened, and a pale Thorongil walked in.

"Harry," he greeted, taking in the sight of Legolas on his knees, desperately clutching one pale hand. "I am glad you are all right."

Harry glanced between Legolas and Thorongil nervously.

"Legolas?" he asked softly. "Do you think I can speak to Thorongil alone for a while?"

Legolas closed his eyes, pain shooting through his heart. It was nothing less than he deserved, after all Harry had gone through because of his betrayal…

The prince nodded, gracefully rising to his feet and passing Thorongil on the way to the exit.

"Legolas?" Harry called from behind him. "I should like to continue our discussion later. I…we still have much to talk about."

Hope filled his chest, and the blonde nodded his assent. Whatever Harry wanted to say, he was willing to listen…he just had to wait a bit.

After Legolas left the healing chambers, Harry struggled to get into a sitting position. Thorongil walked to the bed to assist him, fixing the pillows to help support Harry's back.

"You are not quite so pale," Thorongil murmured. "I am so glad that you are all right."

"I thought you were dead," Harry admitted. "I thought…He said you were dead."

"I was poisoned, but I fell in battle, but I shall be fully recovered in a few days," the Man responded. "I am sorry that I let you get captured."

"It is not your fault," Harry answered. "We were all tired and weak from the journey and lack of sleep. The Witch-king wanted me, and he watched our group closely. I had no chance from the moment I left the borders of Mirkwood."

"Harry…" Thorongil said softly. "When I saw that Nazgul with his blade at your neck…"

"I am sorry for worrying you," the Elf replied.

"Are you…are you going to be all right?" the Man questioned. "I…your skin, your eyes…you were Fading…are you still?"

"I will be fine with time," Harry answered. "I…I wanted to say thank you, for everything. You are the first real friend I have ever had. But…"

Thorongil stood completely still as Harry struggled to find words.

"But I cannot be the person that you want. I…I am so young, still. I do not want to give up my immortality only to find that I regret it a few years down the line. And…and either of us could die in battle any day. I do not wish to be left alone," Harry admitted.

"Are you giving in to Prince Legolas?" Thorongil stated calmly, though inside he was raging. "After everything he has done?"

"That is between Legolas and myself," Harry answered. "Please do not be angry with me, but I must speak with him before I make any further decisions."

"What…what do you mean?" the Man asked. "Any further decisions? You have decided against me, and you wish to stay an Elf."

"Deciding against you does not mean that I have decided for Legolas," the Elf responded. "I just…I want to see what immortality has to offer. I want to see what my Elvish side has to offer. I have lived among mortals most of my life and traveled with Gandalf for the past two years. I just…I want to settle down and find my Elvish family and find who I really am."

Thorongil nodded sadly.

"This…this is the best decision for you? What you truly want?" the Man asked softly.

"I do not know what I truly want. I need time," Harry answered. "Time just to explore who I am. That is what is best for me at this stage. You…you need to return to Gondor and Rohan. The Men look to you as a leader, and darker times are approaching. I do not wish to live my life like that, constantly fighting and praying that neither of us fall in battle."

"I would give it up for you," Thorongil swore.

"But you should not have to," the Elf replied. "You would give up your position, a position in which you can do great good and which you are greatly suited for. And I would give up my immortality, my chance to live out forever with my Elvish family, should I find them. I feel we would both be unhappy, in the end."

Thorongil swallowed thickly.

"It is your choice," he stated blankly. "Do what is best for you."

"I am sorry," Harry said sadly. "I do care for you greatly, and perhaps in another life we could have been very happy together, but I need more time than being a mortal can give me. And I do not wish either of us to sacrifice who we truly are or could be in order to be together."

"I love you," Thorongil declared softly, knowing it would not change Harry's mind but having to try anyway.

"I know," the Elf stated sadly. "And perhaps I could feel the same, given time. But for now, I just need to focus on myself. I need to be selfish for once."

"I would wait for you," the Man offered desperately. "I would wait."

Harry gave him a soft, sorrowful smile, reaching a pale hand to gently squeeze his large one.

"Do not waste your life for something that may never happen," he whispered tenderly. "You are an amazing Man, and there will be another out there for you. Perhaps Arwen…"

Thorongil's eyes snapped to meet Harry's serious green.

"How did you..?" he questioned.

"It is quite all right, Estel," the Elf replied with a small smile. "We all have our secrets, and I forgive you yours. Just…try to stay safe, and promise me that you will not wait."

"Harry…" the Man stated sadly. "I do not know if I can promise you that."

"Try your best, then," was the gentle response.

Thorongil nodded stiffly, knowing that the Elf was not going to change his mind.

"I will try," he stated blankly. "I am glad you are all right."

Harry watched sadly as the Man turned to exit the healing chambers.

"When are you returning to Rohan?" Harry asked before Thorongil left. "The king will be worried."

"King Thranduil is sending a group of Elves to help escort us," the Man replied. "We will leave on the morrow if you are not coming with us."

"I think that is best," the Elf responded. "I wish you a safe journey, and tell Gandalf that he was right."

"Gandalf?" Thorongil asked.

Harry gave a small smile.

"Before we left Rohan, Gandalf told me that he would not blame me if I decided to stay with the Elves. That they were my people, and I did not have to learn magic all at once. I denied his words, but he was right," the Elf responded.

Thorongil nodded once more.

"I will tell him," the Man promised before slipping out the door.

Harry watched him leave with sad eyes, knowing that this was probably their good-bye.

He only hoped they would meet again one day.

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**Author's Note**: Uh oh…one confrontation down, one to go…Please review and let me know what you think. ^_^


	12. Time

**Title**: Ohtareamin, A'maeleamin (My Warriors, My Beloveds)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

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_Chapter 11: Time_

_Northern Mirkwood: 30__th__ of March, 2969_

_Afternoon_

"Good afternoon," Harry greeted as Prince Legolas walked into the healing chambers.

The younger Elfling was sitting up in bed, drinking some water and eating some fruit for lunch.

"Good afternoon," the blonde responded. "I…Thorongil told me that they are leaving for Rohan on the morrow."

Harry nodded softly.

"Yes, I know," he replied lightly.

"And you…you are not leaving?" Legolas asked desperately. "Healer Saerwen…"

"You do not have to confine me to bed rest," Harry interrupted with a small smile. "I am staying in Mirkwood."

Legolas let out a breath of relief.

"I promise I shall make it up to you. I will be faithful," the prince pledged.

The green-eyed Elf sighed.

"Legolas…" he trailed off. "I have no reason to trust in your promises. The last one you gave me did not last the night."

"I mean it this time," Legolas murmured seriously. "Seeing you in the arms of that Nazgul, your skin dulling, your life Fading…I would have gladly ripped my heart from my chest to save you from that pain."

Harry turned away from those earnest grey eyes.

"You are too good with words," he whispered. "You will need to prove them with your actions before I can believe you."

"What do you wish me to do?" Legolas questioned. "I will do anything you ask."

Harry smiled sadly.

"It does not mean as much if I tell you," the green-eyed Elf murmured. "I…I need time. That is why I cannot be with Thorongil. I am too young yet to commit myself to one person for the rest of my life, whether that life be mortal or forever."

"You…you would have chosen him had you been Man?" Legolas asked softly.

Green eyes locked with grey.

"We would never have met had I been Man," he reminded Legolas. "Gandalf never would have taken an interest in me, and I would have never met either of you."

"You know what I am asking," the prince persisted. "Had you been mortal, would you have chosen him?"

"Most probably," Harry replied seriously. "Can you live with that? That I did not choose him because I did not yet feel ready to sacrifice my immortality? That I did not bid him wait because I know his life is much too short as it is?"

Legolas did not answer.

"Legolas…" Harry trailed off, then gathered his courage. "I did not ask that to hurt you, but you need to know the truth. I did not choose Thorongil because he is Man, and we cannot be what the other needs. But just because I have not chosen him, it does not mean that I have chosen you."

"P-Pardon?" the blonde questioned, confused. "You…you are staying in Mirkwood?"

It was more a question than a statement.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "I am staying in Mirkwood. I want to connect to my Elven heritage. I want to learn to heal and shoot a bow and make lembas bread and wield a sword. I want to read and write and study and talk with my elders. I am choosing to be an Elf. That does not mean that I am choosing to be with you."

Legolas shook his head.

"But…I do not understand…" he admitted.

"I am young yet, and I am not getting any older," Harry stated seriously. "I…I need time to figure out what I want. I do not have to marry and start producing babies immediately. I need some time for myself."

"Would you be taking this time if I had not…done what I did?" Legolas questioned, needing to know.

"Probably not," the green-eyed Elf admitted. "I…I would have agreed to stay, and Thorongil and the Men would have departed for Rohan. I am sure you would have wooed me in short order, and we would have married. But…I think I am glad for this. I do not want to wake up one morning a hundred years from now and wonder why I made the decisions I did. I do not want to regret marrying you and bearing your heirs, if it ever happens."

"Are you…you will be all right?" Legolas asked. "You were Fading…"

"I was forcing myself to Fade, because I did not want him to touch me," Harry replied, shuddering in disgust. "I…I used my guilt and grief over the supposed death of Thorongil to…to begin the process. But he is alive, and the Witch-king is gone from these lands. I will be fine in time."

"So that is what you are asking of me?" the blonde sighed. "Time?"

"And patience," Harry answered. "And for you to keep your promise of fidelity."

"You…you do not wish to be with me, but you do not wish for me to be with another?" Legolas questioned.

"I…I need to know that you do not need constant gratification," the green-eyed Elf responded. "If you can abstain, perhaps I can trust in your words. And I do not think I could ever consider you if I constantly had to face your lovers."

"I…I made a promise to the Valar," Legolas admitted. "When you were captured. I promised that if you were returned safe and well, I would never even look upon another in lust again. You are my only, even if you should forsake me."

Harry looked at him with shocked green eyes.

"That will be a hard promise to keep…" he murmured softly.

"But I shall," the prince declared. "I will prove to you that I can be the one you need."

"Perhaps in time," Harry replied. "I…I am not staying in Mirkwood indefinitely. I wish to visit to Rivendell eventually…"

"Visit?" Legolas questioned. "I would gladly take you there…"

Harry smiled at him softly.

"Glorfindel and I spoke for a while after Thorongil left," the brunette Elf admitted. "He believes…he believes that my grandfather is in Rivendell. If I find my Elven family, I may stay there."

Legolas faltered, looking at him with pain-filled eyes.

"Would you allow me to follow?" he questioned seriously.

"You have your duties here…" Harry trailed off.

Legolas shook his head and fell to his knees at Harry's bedside.

"How am I to prove to you that I am true if you are not here? Or I am not there? I will gladly follow where you lead," Legolas swore.

Harry looked at him, uncertain. He reached out a delicate hand to caress Legolas's smooth cheek.

"Then we shall see…" the Elfing murmured. "We have time yet."

Legolas sighed deeply, covering Harry's smaller hand with his own.

"We have forever," he replied softly with a relieved smile. "And I will wait forever if forever is what you need."

Harry smiled back softly.

Glorfindel looked upon the pair with approving eyes from his spot in the doorway. The two were so wrapped up in their conversation that they did not even notice him.

The blonde Elf-lord backed out of the healing chambers quietly, turning to walk to the great hall.

He would convince King Thranduil to give Harry the time he needed and stop pressuring the Elf to marry his son.

After all, Legolas was right.

They had forever.

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**Author's Note**: I am thinking that the next chapter might be the epilogue…or one more chapter and then the epilogue? Please review and let me know what you think. ^_^


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